Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist
by MercurialLily
Summary: High school AU. When Elizabeta Héderváry transfers to a new school, she is captivated by the mysterious, lonely Gilbert Beilschmidt. What secrets may he be hiding - and how far will Elizabeta go to find out? T.
1. Hello (Lionel Ritchie)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

_**A/N:**_** This plot basically popped into my head while I was half-asleep. I have no clue where it'll go. You have been warned! ****Yes, the title is a rip-off of Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. I just thought it sounded cool.**

**Each chapter is going to be named after a song title, which may give clues to what the chapter will be about. Or not. I don't know, it's terribly planned out D,:**

**It's a high-school AU, so most of the characters are 16-17 (Grade 11, eleventh grade, junior, what have you) unless otherwise noted. Elizabeta has transferred part-way through first semester.**

"I'll see you later, sweetie! Have a good first day!" Ms. Héderváry said as her daughter stepped out of the car. "You're going to have a great time."

Elizabeta took up her bag and smiled. "Thanks, Mom." She waved and turned to face the school. It was an old Gothic-style building, three stories high. Her old school was a modest two-story building with an inviting exterior.

"Well, here goes nothing," Elizabeta murmured to herself as she started up the stairs leading to the front doors. Taking a breath, she opened the door and entered the school.

The building had a musty smell similar to that of an old library. The carpet in the foyer was a deep red, and what floor she could see was a shiny hardwood. Directly to her left was a staircase, and a little ways to the right was what looked to be the main office. _That's where I need to go._ As she walked toward the office, she was suddenly bumped by a student heading for the stairs.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" the student shouted, clearly annoyed.

"I-I'm so sorry," Elizabeta apologized. She looked up, wanting to see who she bumped into. The student was a boy, relatively tall and slender, wearing a red hoodie over his uniform shirt. The thing she found most fascinating about him was his snow-white hair and dark red eyes. He was so different from anyone else she'd ever seen.

The boy glared at her. "Yeah, just be more careful next time," he snapped as he made his way to the stairs.

Elizabeta stared after him for a while before continuing to the office. As soon as she opened the office doors, she heard the bell ring. "Great," she muttered. "Late on my first day..."

"Can I help you?"

Elizabeta looked up. She saw a young secretary smiling at her from the front desk. Elizabeta nodded and said, "Yes, actually. My name is Elizabeta Héderváry. I just transferred here."

The secretary tapped on her keyboard. After a short pause, she replied, "Ah, here you are. Elizabeta Héderváry... You are in Mr. Vargas' homeroom class. He's on the second floor. Room 221. You have a map, don't you? I'll still give you directions. Go up the stairs across the hall and turn right. The room is the second door on the left."

"Thank you," Elizabeta said as she left the office and headed up the stairs. "Turn right... Second door on the left... Ah!" Taking a second to look as presentable as possible, she knocked on the door.

She heard a clamour from inside the classroom before the door was opened by a middle-aged man with dark hair. "You must be our new student," he said with a smile. "Your name is...?"

"Elizabeta Héderváry," Elizabeta replied. "You're Mr. Vargas, right?"

"That's right. Come in, we've been expecting you." Mr. Vargas ushered Elizabeta into the room and clapped his hands to get the students' attention. "Everyone, this is your new classmate, Elizabeta Héderváry. She just transferred here recently. Please make her feel welcome."

As Mr. Vargas introduced her, Elizabeta looked around the room. Some of the students were watching her curiously while others looked as though they couldn't care less. One student, sitting in the back corner by the window, stood out from the rest. Elizabeta's eyes widened slightly. It was the boy she'd bumped into earlier. He was looking out the window, utterly disinterested in what was going on.

"Elizabeta, you may sit between Lukas and Antonio," Mr. Vargas said as he pointed to an empty desk near the back of the room.

"Thank you, sir." Elizabeta made her way through the aisle of desks before sitting down at her assigned seat. To her right was a bored-looking blonde boy with a strange cross-shaped barrette in his hair; to her left was a smiley brunette boy with striking green eyes. As Elizabeta set her bag at her feet, the brown-haired boy greeted her.

"Hi! I'm Antonio," he said. "It's nice to meet you."

Elizabeta smiled politely. "It's nice to meet you too, Antonio. If you couldn't guess, I'm Elizabeta."

Antonio laughed slightly. "You're funny."

"All right, class," Mr. Vargas said. "Please turn to page 130 in your textbooks..."

. . . . .

The bell rang to signal the end of class. While most of the students left the room quickly, Elizabeta took her time packing her things. As she stood up, a blonde girl from the front of the room walked over to her. "Hey, Elizabeta Héderváry. My name's Laura Dupont."

"Um, hi," Elizabeta said, picking up her bag. "Can you tell me how to get to the cafeteria?"

"You have lunch now?" Laura asked. "Me too! I'll show the way. If you don't mind, I'll sit with you so you're not lonely."

Elizabeta smiled. "Thanks. Lead the way!"

Laura smiled back and led Elizabeta out of the classroom. Once they were out in the hall, the strange boy from that morning brushed past them, nearly knocking Elizabeta down.

"Hey!" Laura yelled. "Watch out, you idiot!"

The boy glanced over his shoulder. "Whatever," he said as he kept walking.

Laura shook her head. "The nerve of some people."

"It's okay," Elizabeta said. "He didn't hurt me or anything. It was just an accident."

"I doubt it. He's a jerk to everyone. No wonder he has no friends."

"What's his name?" Elizabeta asked.

"Gilbert," Laura answered. "Gilbert Beilschmidt."

_**A/N:**_** Ooh, terrible cliffhanger! XD**

**Mr. Vargas - Ancient Rome**

**Laura Dupont - Belgium**

**Did anyone catch Antonio trying to be flirty? What a dork. But we love him anyway.**

**Also, yes, I made Gilbert sit in the cliché anime spot because why the hell not?**

**Like I said before, I don't quite know how this story is going to play out. However, I hoped you enjoyed!**


	2. It's Time (Imagine Dragons)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

_**A/N:**_** And here's Chapter 2.**

"Gilbert Beilschmidt? Why do you want to know about him?"

Elizabeta was sitting in the cafeteria with Laura and Laura's friend Natalya Arlovskaya, who was also in their homeroom class. Natalya had asked the question.

"I'm just curious, that's all," Elizabeta replied. "Laura said he doesn't have any friends."

"He's rude, weird-looking, and just plain creepy," Natalya stated bluntly. "That's why he has no friends. I don't think anyone in our class has even talked to him this year."

"No one spoke to him last year either," Laura added.

Elizabeta frowned slightly. "Maybe he's just shy. You'll never know unless you talk to -"

"I wouldn't talk to him even if you paid me a million dollars!" Natalya exclaimed. "He's just so... Ugh." She shuddered.

"Now, Natalya. That's mean." Laura looked at Elizabeta. "You could be right about him being shy. But one of the reasons nobody talks to him is because of his general attitude. He doesn't pay attention in class, he talks back to teachers, and if he runs into you in the hall he doesn't apologize. You experienced that first-hand. In the words of my teacher from last year, I don't know why he shows up at all. I'm almost certain he's failing most of his classes."

"You can't be so dismissive about him," Elizabeta said. "Did you ever give him a chance?"

"Um..." Laura glanced at Natalya, who shook her head and shrugged. "We, uh, have never seen any reason to?"

Elizabeta shook her head and stood up. "I'm going to look around the school," she said, picking up her bag. "I'll see you two later." With that, she left the cafeteria.

Natalya nudged Laura. "How much do you want to bet she's going to look for Beilschmidt?"

Laura shrugged. "She seems really determined to get to know him."

. . . .

Elizabeta wandered through the halls of the first floor. Despite the fact that it was lunch, there were no other students around. When she entered a back stairwell to look upstairs, she heard a quiet muttering coming from an area she couldn't see at the top of the stairs. "Hello?" Elizabeta called.

The muttering stopped. Now all she could hear was quiet breathing.

Elizabeta ascended the stairs. There she saw, in the corner of the landing, the boy in the red hoodie. He was watching her uneasily. As she approached him, he stepped back.

"What do you want, transfer?" he asked in a low voice.

"I have a name, you know," Elizabeta responded. "You were in my homeroom class. I'm Eliza-"

"Elizabeta Héderváry." The boy nodded. "I was paying attention. But I have no interest in transfer students."

Elizabeta frowned. "Laura and Natalya were right. You _are_ rude." With a shake of her head, she added, "No wonder they said you have no friends."

"They don't know anything. They think they're better than everyone else. And then you show up and they act like you're God's gift to the school!" He rolled his eyes. "You don't know who I am, so who are you to judge?"

"I know your name. It's Gilbert Beilschmidt, isn't it?"

The boy, Gilbert, scowled. "So they told you my name, huh? Figures. They're trying to turn you against me."

"It's not like that," Elizabeta said. "I asked who you were so I could try and get to know you."

"Why the hell do you want to get to know me?" Gilbert demanded. He eyed her suspiciously.

"You seem lonely, that's all." Elizabeta smiled softly. "I'd like to be your friend. Is that okay?"

"No. Go away."

"But -"

"Just leave me alone, all right?" Gilbert snapped, picking up his bag. "I really don't understand why you want to talk to me."

Elizabeta paused slightly. Then she said, "You seem like an interesting person. But you also seem like you just need someone to talk to." She shrugged. "I don't know, I'm probably wasting my time. You're clearly not interested in conversing with me."

"I wouldn't mind so much if you'd just shut up once in a while."

Elizabeta seemed a bit taken aback. "O-okay... I'll try not to talk as much if that's what you want..."

Gilbert nodded. "Good." He glanced around before continuing, "If you still want to talk to me by the end of the day, meet me in the back field. There's an old oak tree. That's where we'll meet. Don't tell anyone about it. Okay?"

"Okay." Elizabeta nodded. "Thanks for giving me a chance."

"Yeah, whatever. Also...don't tell anyone you saw me." Before Elizabeta could respond, Gilbert had hurried down the stairs and disappeared.

_**A/N:**_** Oh, poor, sweet, anti-social, awkward Gilbert. We'll be finding out more about him in chapters to come.**

**I'm sorry it's taken a little while for this chapter to be posted, but I've been in and out of the hospital because of my heart (I almost passed out today at school, the pain in my chest was so bad). On top of that, my exams start in a week, and my procedure will be sometime after that. A lot of stress! :/ Oh well. This chapter's up. I hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Who Knew (Pink)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Guys, I'm alive! :P My first exam is tomorrow, so I wanted to get this up before then. Please enjoy!**

Elizabeta couldn't wait for the school day to be over. Sitting in her math class, she checked her watch for the eighth time that period. Her thoughts distracted her from the lesson, which was about trigonometry or something else she didn't care about. At least the teacher hadn't noticed her vacant gaze.

_If you still want to talk to me by the end of the day, meet me in the back field._ Those words rang through Elizabeta's mind. She had actually held a conversation, however short it was, with the boy no one spoke to. Not only that, he had offered to talk to her again. She felt almost honoured.

The bell rang much sooner than she expected. Not caring to hang around and chat with her classmates, Elizabeta bolted out of the room and down the stairs. It took her a moment to figure out how to get to the back field. Once she figured it out, she exited the school building and looked around for an old oak tree. The problem was, she didn't see one. She saw three. Before she could deduce which tree was the designated meeting spot, she heard a voice.

"So you decided to show up after all."

Elizabeta jumped and turned in the direction of the voice. She saw Gilbert Beilschmidt step out from behind one of the trees, his hood pulled up over his head, his hands in his pockets. Elizabeta nodded and said, "Yeah, of course I did. I was serious when I said I wanted to talk to you."

"Huh." Gilbert leaned against the tree. "What exactly is it you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, for starters..." Elizabeta took a breath before continuing. "I want to know why no one talks to you. Just to start things off."

Gilbert's eyes narrowed slightly. "I have no interest in people," he said bluntly. "They bore me. People don't talk to me because I don't talk to them. I don't want to talk to them. Why should I? No one ever does anything for me."

_He sounds so arrogant,_ Elizabeta thought. _How can people bore you? All you have to do is try to make conversation..._

"If it were entirely up to me, I wouldn't come to school at all," Gilbert continued. "I'd rather be alone."

"Then why talk to me if you claim you hate people?" Elizabeta questioned.

"Surprisingly, you interest me. Just a little, though. There's something about you that makes you seem..." Gilbert trailed off, thinking of what word to use. "_Sophisticated_. You don't seem like the other girls. Of course, I've only known you since this morning, but I think you're a good person." He shrugged and shook his head. "Whatever. You don't believe me."

Elizabeta's eyes widened slightly. Had this boy just said...he thought she was a good person? Was she hearing things?

She shook her head slightly and said in a soft voice, "Can I ask you something else?"

"Shoot."

"This might sound kind of insensitive, but..." Elizabeta ran her tongue over her lips as she tried to figure out how she wanted to word it. "What's up with your hair and eyes? I mean, I've never seen anyone with red eyes before..."

Gilbert stiffened. For quite some time, he didn't respond. He just stared at the ground. When he finally did speak, his voice was sharp and bitter. "Who the hell do you think you are, asking that kind of question?"

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

"Why the hell would you even ask something like that? Do you know how rude it is? Do you have no regard for other people's feelings?" With a huff, he pulled down his hood, revealing his snow-white hair. "Have you never seen an albino before?"

"Oh, um..." Elizabeta wasn't sure what to say. She decided to answer honestly. "N-no, I've never seen...an albino before." She felt so insensitive saying that.

"Well, now you have." Gilbert looked away. "Everyone's reaction is the same. I look different, so I'm treated differently. If I looked like everyone else, maybe I wouldn't be such a loner. Maybe I would have at least one friend." He ran a hand through his hair and glared at Elizabeta. "I thought that maybe - just _maybe _\- I could trust you. But now I see that I was wrong."

Elizabeta held up her hands. "I'm so sorry, honest. I never meant to offend you in any way. I was just curious -"

"Shut up and leave me alone!" Gilbert pulled his hood back up to cover his hair and started to walk away.

"Wait! I-I'm really sorry!" Elizabeta cried.

But she received no reply as Gilbert picked up pace and hurried off the school field, turning a corner and disappearing from sight.

_**A/N:**_** I actually love trig. I hate math, but I love trig. Just a random fact.**

**And once again, Gilbert runs away. It seems to be a hobby of his, eh? ;)**

**This chapter evolved while I was writing it. Originally, it wasn't going to end on the note it did. But an idea popped into my head and I decided to go with it.**

**We'll learn why Gilbert is so sensitive about his albinism in the next chapter or so, and why he flipped out at Elizabeta. It'll all make sense soon.**


	4. Welcome To My Life (Simple Plan)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**This chapter is in two perspectives: the first in Elizabeta's, the second in Gilbert's. Gilbert's part will help us gain more insight on his actions.**

**Enjoy, my pretties!**

Elizabeta kept staring after Gilbert - of course by now he was long gone, but she hadn't quite processed that yet - until she was pulled from her daze by a buzzing in her skirt pocket. _My phone._ She pulled it out and saw that her mother was calling her. After a second or two of just staring at the screen, Elizabeta hit the "talk" button. "Hello?" she said.

"Elizabeta!" came her mother's voice from the other end of the line. "Where are you? I've been waiting in the car for fifteen minutes. Are you okay?"

As her mother spoke, Elizabeta deduced that school had ended about twenty minutes ago. She had left the building as soon as she could to talk to Gilbert, but their conversation hadn't lasted as long as she would've liked. _Yeah, that one's on me,_ she thought. Then how long had she been standing here alone?

"Elizabeta?"

Her mother's voice brought her back. After stuttering a little, Elizabeta said, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be there soon."

She could sense her mother's relief. "All right, sweetie," Mrs. Héderváry said. "See you in a bit."

"See you." Elizabeta hung up and slipped her phone back into her pocket. She stared at the ground for a minute or two before heading around to the front of the school. There she saw the familiar black hatchback parked by the entrance.

When Elizabeta opened the front passenger's door and sat down, her mother immediately asked her several questions: "What took you so long? What were you doing? How was your day? Did you make any friends?" Ms. Héderváry was an expert at posing questions.

Elizabeta sighed inwardly and shrugged. "I made some friends, sure," she mused. "They're pretty nice. But there's this one guy -"

"Ooh, a boy? Do you have a crush?" Ms. Héderváry teased as she pulled out of the parking lot.

"Wh-what? No, it's nothing like that!" Elizabeta rolled her eyes. _Seriously, Mom..._ "This guy is in my homeroom class," she went on. "Apparently he doesn't talk to anyone, and he doesn't have any friends. His name's Gilbert, by the way."

"He sounds like he's just shy," Ms. Héderváry said.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. But I managed to catch him at lunch and talk to him a little. He said we could meet up again and talk after school in the back field. That's why I wasn't at the front when you got here. When we were talking, he was acting kind of weird, and then I said something and he just..." Elizabeta shrugged again. "He got angry, I guess."

"What did you say?"

"Well..." Elizabeta chewed on her bottom lip as she put her words together in her mind. "He has...white hair and red eyes. So I asked him about it. He didn't like that."

Ms. Héderváry sighed. "Honey, you know better than that," she said. "How would you feel if you were in his position and someone asked you something like that?"

"I wasn't thinking, Mom. I've never seen someone like him before..."

"You mean an albino," Ms. Héderváry corrected. "That doesn't matter. It's rude! How do you think you made him feel?"

"I get it, okay? I get it." Elizabeta looked out the window. "Is Adam home?" she asked, changing the subject.

"No, he's still at work."

Adam was her mother's boyfriend. Ms. Héderváry had divorced Elizabeta's father when Elizabeta was eleven, and two years later had met Adam. He was nice enough, but Elizabeta missed her real father. However, once she and her mother moved three cities over, Elizabeta hadn't seen her father since the divorce.

The rest of the drive was silent. When the car finally pulled into the driveway of the house, Elizabeta jumped out before it had even stopped. She heard her mother call out to her - "Erzsi..." - but she ignored her and ran into the house.

Tossing her bag by the front door, Elizabeta dashed up the stairs and into her room. She slammed her door and kicked off her shoes before flopping onto her bed. Elizabeta stared at her ceiling, refusing to answer her mother when she called up to her. She ignored the question about what she wanted for dinner. She didn't even try to listen to the conversation that went on downstairs when Adam eventually came home.

Instead, she continued staring at the ceiling, her thoughts in a different universe than her body.

. . . .

_Crash!_

"Dammit! Who left this plate on the edge of the counter?"

Gilbert flinched when he heard the sound of a plate shattering, followed by the angry yell of his stepmother. He remembered using the plate to make a sandwich, but he didn't remember what he had done with it. Come to think of it, he'd probably left it on the edge of the counter. He was stupid enough to do that.

There was a soft knock on his bedroom door. "Gilbert? Are you okay?" It was the calm, even voice of his younger brother, Ludwig. Ludwig was a freshman at the same school as Gilbert, but he had a maturity beyond his years. The two had been very close when they were younger, but they had grown apart over the past few years. Gilbert knew it was his fault - since starting high school, he had become anti-social and wary of strangers. Due to his sudden withdrawal from most social aspects, the brothers hardly ever talked anymore. The few times they did, it was awkward for both of them.

Gilbert stared at the floor from where he was slumped against the wall. Even though he was in his room, he didn't feel _safe_ like he used to. He felt scared, but he wasn't quite sure why. He wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

"Gilbert? Come on, say something. I'm worried about you," Ludwig continued in a gentle voice. "We haven't talked in a while... I know you don't like talking to me, but I'm here if you want to."

Gilbert remained staying as quiet as possible. If he was lucky, maybe Ludwig would just leave him alone.

After a few minutes, he heard a dejected sigh and the sound of departing footsteps. Gilbert let out a sigh of relief.

Then he thought about the broken plate. That had been his fault. In fact, everything in this godforsaken house was his fault. When was the last time he'd done something right? When was the last time he'd felt good about himself?

His thoughts wandered to the new girl in his class, Elizabeta Héderváry. Yes, she was pretty, but she was also quite nosy and a bit rude. Why did she have to ask him about his hair and eyes? Hadn't she thought about his feelings?

_I can't help the fact that I'm different from everyone else... Right? No... It's my fault. Everything's my fault._

As he continued to sit on the cold hardwood floor, Gilbert began to cry.

_**A/N:**_** Erzsi is a pet name for Erzsébet, which is the Hungarian form of Elizabeta.**

**And now we've gotten (somewhat) into the mind of Gilbert Beilschmidt. There will definitely be more chapters in his POV because it's so much fun to write as him. We'll also find out more about his family situation.**

**Just as an aside, it makes me so happy to know that you guys are reading my stories. I really hope I'm keeping you entertained. I love you all-you're what inspires me to keep writing. Virtual hugs for all!**


	5. What Do You Want From Me (Adam Lambert)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Again, a two-perspective chapter (though this one has three parts). And I'm going to include more Gilbert so we can get into his mind some more. As always, enjoy!**

_Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock..._

"Shut _up,_ you stupid clock..." Gilbert muttered. He had no idea why he had an old alarm clock in his room (_why can't I have a digital one like everyone else?_) and its constant ticking drove him insane every day. Of course, most things drove him insane... Day-to-day life was often too much for him... Wait, what had been bothering him? Oh, right, the clock...

He suddenly felt a dull pain in his left temple. Closing his eyes, Gilbert curled up on the floor and held his head in his hands. He wanted to sleep, but too many thoughts were running through his mind.

_Nothing is okay... Nothing... Why is this happening? What did I do?_

Had it already been seven years? It couldn't be... It felt like it had just happened yesterday. The memory was etched in his mind; it was something he would never forget. That was the day that everything changed. It was when he realized that everything in this family was his fault.

_It's my fault... I'm so sorry... All my fault... My fault... My..._

As he lay on his bedroom floor, he let out a scream of anguish.

. . . .

Dinner was extremely awkward. Elizabeta, not being in the mood to talk, stared at the table as she ate. Her mother was clearly annoyed with her, but didn't say anything and ate quietly. Adam had been home for a short time, but he received a call from his work and had to leave shortly before dinner. He had insisted that Elizabeta and her mother eat without him. And so the awkward dinner began.

Finally Ms. Héderváry broke the silence. "What was wrong with you earlier? You weren't acting like yourself."

"Nothing's wrong with me," Elizabeta retorted. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Did something bad happen at school?"

"No, it's just... Well, yeah." Elizabeta shrugged. "I told you what I said to that boy in my class. I hate myself for that. I want to apologize..."

"You can apologize to him tomorrow at school," Ms. Héderváry suggested.

"But what if he doesn't want to talk to me?"

Ms. Héderváry offered a small smile. "Try. I'm sure he'll appreciate your apology."

"Okay. I'll try," Elizabeta said. "Um, may I be excused? I'm full."

"I suppose."

"Thanks." Standing up, Elizabeta took her plate to the kitchen. After clearing it and putting it in the dishwasher, she went up to her room.

Her room was still being organized, seeing as they'd only moved a few weeks before, but Elizabeta found it cozy and likable. The walls were a pale lavender, which went nicely with her gray and purple bedspread. The floor was a shiny hardwood. A small lamp sat on her bedside table, along with her makeup kit and jewelry. Boxes filled with other personal items were stacked up by the window.

Elizabeta took out her earrings and placed them on her table as she sat down on her bed. After just sitting for a few minutes, she picked up a nearby book - an old copy of _Lolita _\- and started reading. However, her thoughts were too distracting for her to focus on the novel.

. . . .

After some time, Gilbert decided he was hungry, and made his way downstairs. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he entered the kitchen and started rifling through the cupboards in search of something to eat. Unfortunately, seeing as no one had gone shopping in a while, there wasn't a lot of food.

In the midst of his search, he heard voices coming from the living room. At first he didn't care and ignored them, but when he heard his name, he abandoned the food search and tiptoed out to the hall. He pressed himself against the wall outside the living room and listened.

"I don't see how you've been able to put up with Gilbert for all these years," he heard his stepmother say.

"He's a teenager." That was his father. "What more can I say?"

"He's a stubborn, disrespectful brat."

His father sighed. "These past few years have been very difficult for him. You're not really helping by constantly being on his back. Give him a break."

"I'm not going to 'give him a break'," his stepmother quipped. "He needs someone to stay on top of him. You know very well he's failing school. Do you want to have a son who will never amount to anything?"

Gilbert stiffened. _What did that bitch just say?_ Yes, he knew he was failing all of his classes. Yes, he knew he was rude to his stepmother. But who said she could run his life?

"Gilbert?"

Gilbert jumped when he heard his brother's voice. He'd been so caught up in eavesdropping that he hadn't even noticed Ludwig coming down the hall. Unsure of what to say, he simply blinked.

"What are you doing down here?" Ludwig asked. "Are you okay?"

"Um... I..." Gilbert stumbled over his words. In all honesty, he didn't want to talk to his brother. He didn't want to talk to anyone. "Leave me alone," he hissed.

Ludwig looked hurt. "Why? What did I do?"

"Just leave me alone... Please..." Gilbert tried to push past his brother to get back upstairs, but Ludwig caught his arm in an attempt to make him stay. However, Gilbert had other plans. He managed to pull his arm away before darting up the stairs.

Once in his room, Gilbert slammed the door and sank to the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest and covered his ears with his hands, trying to block out the shouts coming from downstairs. They were all mad at him. He was sure of it.

_Stop it... Leave me alone, please... Stop! Help me... Shut up...! Save me... Please... Mom... Help..._

Gilbert was losing his mind.

_**A/N:**_** Ooh, what happened seven years ago? It's a mystery! Don't worry, it will be revealed in time ;)**

**Don't ask why Elizabeta's reading **_**Lolita**_**. It was literally the first book that popped into my head.**

**Wait, what's that about Gilbert mentioning his mom at the end? It'll all come together in later chapters!**

**Also, everyone should look up Ancient Moon by Elliot del Borgo. It's a beautiful instrumental piece (which my band class played at our concert last year; I play the baritone). I find it really soothing to listen to.**


	6. Demons (Imagine Dragons)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**This chapter takes place the day after the events of the previous one.**

**Disclaimer for this chapter: Mentions of self-harm and suicide. Don't hate me for it.**

His room was a disaster.

In a blind rage, Gilbert had strewn his belongings everywhere, had ripped down his curtains, had knocked over his desk. He had torn up old tests, had snapped his pencils, had thrown his bag out of the window. Why? Why was he doing this?

He had no idea.

"Nothing's worth it," he muttered, pacing. "It's all my fault. I'm a horrible person. They all hate me."

He had no control over the thoughts running through his mind. He didn't realize it, but he was his own worst enemy. He was causing himself to deteriorate.

Gilbert made his way over to his overturned desk and rummaged through the drawers. "I know it's in here... Ah ha." His fingers closed around a thin, hard object. _A razor._ Something he'd had for years. Something that no one else knew about. It was his secret.

_I don't want anyone to ever know._

Then he laughed to himself. No one knew anything about him. So how could anyone found out?

He crouched on the floor, clutching the razor. He slowly rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a thin, pale arm covered with scars. Some of the scars were several years old; others were much newer. Each one told a story. But, of course, no one would ever know these stories. He had no one to tell.

With a trembling hand, Gilbert held the blade of the razor against his wrist. He barely flinched when the blade sliced through his skin. However, when he saw the crimson blood run down his arm, he bit his lip to keep himself from crying. Not from the pain, but from the fact that no one cared about him. No one loved him. No one was going to save him.

_But that's... That's just life, huh?_

Would it really be all that bad if he died? He'd come close to killing himself before - he remembered that one time he'd cut too deep and it took him ages to stop the bleeding - but he was scared of dying. He didn't know what he found so scary about it. Maybe it was because people can't come back from the dead. Maybe it was because he had no idea what happened after death. Was it just darkness? Was there really an afterlife?

Gilbert closed his eyes and shook his head. _Death happens all the time. You know that. You've seen it. So suck it up, you idiot._

With a sigh, he opened his eyes and gazed down at his bloodied arm. Strangely, he didn't feel any pain. He felt numb. Cold. In a daze. He thought he heard someone calling his name, someone knocking on his door, but he was probably just going crazy.

"Gilbert?"

Wait. Someone actually _was_ calling him... Someone was outside his room. _Shit... Why? What have I done this time?_

"Get up, you're going to be late for school. Your brother's already left. Wake up, you lazy ass."

His stepmother. That cruel, vile woman. All she ever did was bitch at him because he was lazy and anti-social. He was also pretty rude to her. Whatever. She deserved it.

"Are you listening to me? Get up!"

"I'm not going to school today!" Gilbert was surprised when he heard his voice. He hadn't meant to say anything.

"Why not?"

"I don't feel like it. Haven't you forgotten that I'm failing?" He had no control over his mouth. The words just kept coming. "You said it yourself last night."

There was a pause, and Gilbert hoped his stepmom had left. But then her voice came again: "Don't talk back to me. Get your ass out here and go to school. Don't make me kick you out."

"You have no right to do that. You can't control me." Slowly, Gilbert stood up. "You're not my real mother." He grabbed his hoodie, ignoring his bleeding arm for now, and pulled it on (he was still wearing his uniform from the day before). He kept the razor in his hand. "You're just a bitch who thinks you know everything."

"You little... You know full well that your mother was nothing but an unstable piece of shit. Why else would she have-"

"Shut up! Shut up shut up shut _up!_ Do not talk about her like that!" Gilbert shouted. He was furious. "She was the only person on this fucking planet who truly cared about me! I'm sure of it! She loved me... She really did!"

"Don't raise your voice at me, young man!" The doorknob rattled. That bitch was trying to get in.

Gilbert's hand tightened around the razor. Taking a breath, he walked over to the door and flung it open. Seeing his stepmother standing there, he lifted the razor and swung it at her. _What the hell am I doing?_ The blade grazed the bitch's cheek, and she stepped back, but by the time she realized what had happened Gilbert was out of the house.

He ran down the street, ignoring the raindrops splashing his face. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew he had to escape.

_**A/N:**_** Holy shit, this chapter made me sad. I don't cry very often (nor do I like crying), but I was in tears writing this. Damn...**

**I am very passionate about mental health research and support. Mental illness runs in my family: my mom is bipolar (she's also abusive; I'm glad I don't live with her anymore), and I have depression and anxiety. It makes me so sad when people trivialize any sort of mental health issue. It is a real problem in our society. Those who suffer are not crazy. They are not looking for attention. They are simply afflicted with something they can't help.**

**On that note, if you feel depressed, PLEASE find help. The pain and suffering will get better, I promise. I'm speaking from experience. These past few years I've struggled with my mental state and came very close to ending everything last April. Luckily for me, some family members encouraged me to seek counseling. Now, nine months later, I'm glad I got help when I did. I still struggle with depression, but it's not as bad now. You have a support system out there. Take advantage of it. If you ever need to talk, I'm here. I don't judge and I'll try my hardest to give advice. You are loved. You are a wonderful person. You'll do something great one day. You have your whole life ahead of you. You are worth it.**


	7. How to Save a Life (The Fray)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**That last chapter... Eek. It messed with my soul. But the drama continues!**

Elizabeta yawned as she pulled her books from her bag and set them on her desk. She hadn't slept at all the night before, and she was tired as hell. On top of that, she had started her period that morning. So today was destined to be terrible.

"Hey, you okay?"

She jumped when she heard a voice beside her. Turning to her left, Elizabeta saw the concerned green eyes of Antonio looking at her. Despite the fact that this was only her second day of knowing him, she felt that she could trust him.

With a nod, Elizabeta smiled slightly and replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all."

Antonio looked relieved. "That's good," he said. "I'd hate it if something was wrong."

"What do you mean by that?" Elizabeta squinted.

"Hm? O-oh, I, uh..." Antonio looked flustered. "I-I didn't mean anything by -"

He was cut off by Mr. Vargas saying, "Okay, class is starting. I'll take roll. Natalya Arlovskaya?"

"Here."

"Gilbert Beilschmidt?"

Silence. That was when Elizabeta realized that the mysterious white-haired boy wasn't in class. She wondered why that was.

"All right, one absent," Mr. Vargas said. "Lukas Bondevik?"

"Here, sir."

"Laura Dupont -"

All of a sudden, the door burst open. Mr. Vargas, along with the students who had been chatting with each other, fell silent and turned to see who had come in.

Gilbert Beilschmidt was standing in the doorway, his face flushed, his hair messy. He was panting and clutching his right wrist.

Laura Dupont, who sat beside the door, suddenly let out a shriek. She was soon joined by Natalya Arlovskaya, and several other students cried, "Whaaaat?" Elizabeta too strained to see what had frightened Laura. When she saw, her eyes widened.

Gilbert's right hand was covered in something red. It seemed to be coming from somewhere under his sleeve. Blood. It was blood. But... How had it gotten there?

Mr. Vargas seemed to notice the blood shortly after Elizabeta had, and he said in a calm (well, as calm as a teacher could be when a student is bleeding) voice, "Are you all right, Gilbert? Do you need to see the nurse?"

At first it looked like Gilbert hadn't heard Mr. Vargas. Then he stiffly shook his head and glanced around the room. His gaze settled on the back of the room, and though his eyes seemed out of focus, Elizabeta felt as though he was staring right at her.

Then he stepped back, bumping into the door. He looked stunned, but then he turned and ran out of the room. The sound of his footsteps faded as he darted down the hall.

Mr. Vargas opened his mouth as if to say something before he shook his head and looked at his students. Laura was hyperventilating, Antonio looked shocked, and Elizabeta was still gazing at the door. Two students nearby were whispering softly to each other. The question hung in the air: What had just happened?

Elizabeta stood, raising her hand. "Sir? May I go look for him?"

"Um..." Mr. Vargas nodded slowly and waved his hand toward the door. "Yeah. Go ahead." Then he sank into his chair.

"Thank you, sir." Elizabeta slowly walked out of the classroom. Once she was in the hall, she took a minute to get her bearings, decided that Gilbert would most likely be in that back stairwell, and headed there. Her shoes were the only sound in the hallway.

As she walked, she wondered why Gilbert had been bleeding. What the hell had happened? If he was injured, why didn't he get help? She barely knew him, but she was still worried about him.

When she got to the stairwell and pushed the door open, Elizabeta was immediately greeted by the soft sound of someone crying. She tried to be as quiet as possible as she descended the stairs to the landing. When she saw Gilbert huddled in the corner of the landing, she was struck with the overwhelming need to cry as well.

Gilbert was rocking back and forth, still clutching his wrist. Blood had soaked through his sleeve, and some had splattered on the floor around him. Even from her distance, Elizabeta could see tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Uh, hey," Elizabeta said softly. She wanted to remain as calm and gentle as possible; who knew if he would lash out?

GIlbert flinched and looked up. Elizabeta thought she saw a hint of fear flash through his eyes before he looked down again. "Wh-what do you want?" he muttered, wiping his face with his left sleeve.

"You're hurt." Elizabeta pointed to his wrist. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Go away."

Elizabeta sighed. "I want to help you," she said. Her face softened into a small smile. "Please let me help you?"

There was a long silence. Finally Gilbert nodded - it was so faint Elizabeta almost didn't notice it - and mumbled, "Yeah, sure."

_Score one for me._ "Thanks." Elizabeta slowly made her way over to Gilbert and sat down beside him, tucking her legs under her skirt. Right away, she said, "Show me your arm."

"H-huh?" Gilbert turned his face toward her, a look of confusion and horror on his face. "N-no..."

"You said you'll let me help you," Elizabeta reminded.

"I guess I did, didn't I?" Though hesitant at first, Gilbert eventually held out his arm for Elizabeta to inspect.

Elizabeta, wanting to be as gentle as she could, slowly rolled up Gilbert's sleeve, careful not to hurt him. She let out an audible gasp when she saw the dozens of scars littering his forearm. Those scars, along with the amount of blood, made her feel sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry you have to see this," Gilbert whispered. "I'm sure you weren't expecting it. No one's... No one's ever seen them before."

"Why not? This is dangerous." Elizabeta had opened her eyes again and was gazing intently at Gilbert. "Do you know what would happen if you lost too much blood? How would your family feel? How would your friends feel?"

"I have no friends. And my family... Well, let's just say that the only person who ever cared about me is gone. So it wouldn't really matter if I died."

"Don't say that! I'm sure someone would care." Elizabeta looked down. "You don't understand. Life is worth living. Trust me."

Gilbert shook his head. "I don't trust anyone. I-I'm scared to trust. One way or another, you get betrayed," he said.

"That's not always true. But while we're on the subject..." Elizabeta took a deep breath before she continued. "What's your family life like? I'm sorry if it's offensive."

"Oh, no, it's fine," Gilbert said. He chewed his lip. "My family sucks, if I'm being totally honest with you. My little brother's a huge overachiever, my dad's a lazy piece of shit who doesn't give a flying fuck about me, and my stepmom's nothing but a huge bitch. My brother and I used to be close, but..." He shrugged. "We aren't anymore."

Elizabeta nodded as he spoke. Clearly his relationships with his family members really was awful. _Wait... He's missing someone... He didn't mention..._

"Gilbert," she began, "what about your mom?"

_**A/N:**_** And once again, Antonio tries (and fails) to be flirty. What would you expect? He's Spanish ;)**

**Aaand... Dun-dun-dun... In the next chapter we will learn about the events of seven years ago! The entire story was inspired by the premise for Chapter 8... And it'll be a damn dramatic one, too! :D**


	8. Please Don't Leave Me (Pink)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**And now we'll learn what happened seven years ago! Yay! (Not really) This chapter is basically what first came into my head as an idea. I was going to introduce it earlier, but I decided it would be better to build up more suspense and drama (and see just how much Gilbert would devolve...).**

**Also more mentions of suicide. **_**Sorry sorry sorry.**_** But it's important to the plot.**

**So. Chapter 8. Please enjoy!**

_September, seven years earlier_

"School's awful," Gilbert groaned. "It's like prison, but worse!" It was a relatively sunny Tuesday in early September, and the first day of school had just let out. Naturally, school was every nine-year-old's worst nightmare. Who would want to spend six hours stuck at a desk learning stuff that wasn't even important? What good would it do in the future? At least that was Gilbert's view on things.

Ludwig, however, thought differently. "I think school's important," he said. "It's where you get smarter." Clearly Ludwig's seven-year-old brain hadn't yet wrapped around the horror that was school. "It's fun. We see our friends there."

"I'm too awesome to have friends," Gilbert remarked. Despite the fact that he acted as though he loved being alone, he secretly longed to have just one close friend. But he was too shy to venture out and talk to his classmates. So he put on a show, claiming that friends were overrated. "I like being alone. I'm the best company I could ask for."

"I think you should try and make friends. You seem pretty lonely," Ludwig noted.

"Don't tell me what to do," Gilbert snapped as he made his way up the driveway. The family car wasn't there, which meant that their father was still at work. Their mother was most likely home, seeing as she didn't work and she'd just gone shopping the other day.

Once the two boys were inside the house, Ludwig immediately said, "I want a snack." He looked at his brother expectantly.

"Get your own snack." Gilbert kicked off his shoes and threw his bag into the family room.

"I can't reach the cupboards!" Ludwig exclaimed. "You're my big brother. You're supposed to help me."

GIlbert rolled his eyes. "I'm not supposed to do anything. Ask Mom to make you something." That was when he realized that their mom hadn't come to greet them yet. That was definitely out of the ordinary. "Mom?" he called out.

There was no response.

"Mom?" he repeated, this time a bit louder.

Still nothing.

Gilbert grew suspicious. _Where could Mom be?_ He looked at the front door and saw that her shoes and jacket were still there, so she hadn't gone out. She wasn't in the family room, so maybe she was upstairs? Ignoring Ludwig, who was trying to climb onto the counter to get a snack, Gilbert darted up the stairs to continue searching.

The second floor was eerily quiet. It also seemed much darker than normal. Gilbert looked down the hall to where his parents' bedroom was. "Mom? Are you in there?" he asked as he made his way toward the room. The door was slightly ajar, and once he was outside the room, he pushed the door open all the way.

The room was empty, but Gilbert felt some kind of strange presence. "Mom...?" He noticed a shadow coming from the closet. "Mom, is that you?" He cautiously approached the closet and tugged the door open. Upon peering inside, all colour drained from his face.

His mother was hanging from the rod in the closet, a belt wrapped around her thin throat. She had always been pretty, but now her face was pale blue from lack of oxygen, and her tongue protuded through her lips. Her eyes gazed vacantly at the floor. When the door had opened, her body had been gently swinging back and forth. Now it was still.

"What... What is this...?" Gilbert sank to his knees, trembling. Then, unsure of what else to do, he screamed.

There was a clatter from downstairs, and he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. "Are you okay?" Ludwig called. He was approaching the bedroom.

_I can't let him see..._ "Ludwig, I need you to listen to me," Gilbert said, trying not to let his voice shake. "Don't come in here. Go back downstairs. Call Dad and an ambulance. After you've done that, stay in the family room. Okay?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Just do it! Now!"

Ludwig yelped, but soon his footsteps faded away. Gilbert could hear him dialing a number on the phone.

Gilbert took a shaky breath and looked back at his mother's body. He didn't like being in its presence, but he felt as though he was rooted to the spot. Suddenly he was hit with a wave of nausea, and he vomited to his side.

When his father came home, Gilbert hadn't moved. The boy literally had to be dragged out of the room, as he was in too much shock to leave the room on his own accord. He remained in a daze for the rest of the evening, ignoring the paramedics and police officers who kept coming in and out of the house.

He only snapped out of it when he heard his father talking to one of the officers: "I have no idea what possessed her to do that. I mean, I know she was on medication, but I didn't think it was that bad. Everyone has their ups and downs, right? Experiencing a range of emotions is just life. It's kind of a cowardly move to take the easy way out."

"You don't seem very upset over the fact that your wife is dead, sir," the officer noted.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting her to kill herself."

"What do you mean by that, sir?"

"She was fine when we first met up until we got married. But then when our first son was born, something changed. She was different. She kept muttering, 'It's not my fault, it's not my fault', day in and day out. I remember one time when she looked at me and said, 'Why is he different from everyone else? What did I do?' I didn't know how to respond, so I just told her it wasn't a big deal. But I know how much it bothered her having an albino for a kid. They're not like normal kids. They can't stay out in the sun for too long. Their eyes are more sensitive. They're more prone to bullying." His father sighed. "She loved him because he was her kid, but she didn't like the fact that he's different."

"Sir, you're aware that albinism is transferred genetically, right?" the officer asked. "That means that either you or your wife carry that gene."

His father scoffed. "Well, it isn't me! I'm normal. The rest of my family is normal. It's just that damn kid. This is all his fault."

Gilbert looked down. His father had clearly forgotten that he was sitting right there. He had heard everything. He didn't want to believe any of it. _But... What if he's right? What if Mom killed herself because of... Because of me? I pushed her to the edge... This has to be my fault... I'm so sorry..._

He didn't sleep that night.

_**A/N:**_** Ugh, I hate Gilbert's dad. But I was trying to make him as asshole-ish as possible, because you're supposed to hate him!**

**Soundtrack for writing this: Tooi Hi No Kizuato (Suzuka), Here With You (Mirai Nikki), Tsuisou (Fullmetal Alchemist), Man of the World (Naruto Shippuden), Continued Story (Code Geass), SHI-KI (Shiki), Krone (Guilty Crown), and Vogel im Kafig (Attack on Titan). All beautiful, calming anime soundtracks.**


	9. Human (Christina Perri)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**We're back to the present day for this chapter. Gilbert and Elizabeta will be getting closer, too.**

**FYI, the last chapter was Gilbert telling Elizabeta what had happened. Just in case you're confused.**

**Please enjoy!**

Gilbert fell silent and looked down, tugging at a loose piece of thread on his hoodie's sleeve. He seemed to be waiting for Elizabeta's reaction.

Elizabeta was still trying to process what she had just been told. When she spoke, her voice was shaking slightly. "That's... That's horrible. Why would your father blame you for your mother's suicide?"

"I guess he didn't want to shoulder the guilt," Gilbert said, shrugging. "But I did some research. Albinism runs on my father's side of the family. But I'm not sure if he knows that."

"Why do you still live in that house?" Elizabeta asked. "It's not doing you any good."

"I've run away before. But the cops always manage to pick me up and take me back. No matter how many times I explain the whole situation, no matter who it is, they never listen. They never believe me." He glanced at Elizabeta. "You're really the only one who's ever sat down and listened."

"Really?"

Gilbert nodded. "It's almost as if you care."

"I do care," Elizabeta said gently. She stood up, holding out her hand. "Now let's get that arm of yours cleaned up."

"Oh. Okay." Gilbert took Elizabeta's hand and stood. "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem. I'm just glad you're accepting my help." Elizabeta gingerly pulled Gilbert into a hug. She knew he probably didn't want her hugging him, but she didn't care too much. _This poor guy's been through so much. He just needs to know I'm here for him._

Much to her surprise, Gilbert didn't resist her hug. In fact, he actually hugged her back. Elizabeta thought she heard him whisper, "Thank you," but it was so faint that she couldn't confirm if he had truly said anything.

After a minute or two, the hug ended. Neither knew what to say, so they were silent for some time before Elizabeta said, "Okay, _now_ let's clean your arm." She didn't wait for a response and instead led Gilbert to the washroom. Gilbert only resisted when he realized she was taking him to the girls' washroom. "D-don't take me in there!" he cried.

Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "It's not a big deal. You won't see anything. I'll just be washing your arm," she said as she opened the washroom door and pushed him in.

Two first-year girls were standing by the mirror fixing their makeup. When they saw Gilbert, they screamed.

Elizabeta walked into the washroom behind Gilbert. She looked at the girls and hissed, "Get out now."

The girls didn't need to be told twice. They abandoned their post at the mirror and hurried out.

Elizabeta got some paper towels and held them under the water from the sink to get them damp. Then she went over to Gilbert. "Arm, please."

Gilbert obediently held out his arm and looked at Elizabeta.

After squeezing excess water from the paper towels, Elizabeta dabbed at Gilbert's wrist and started wiping off the blood. Gilbert flinched slightly when she applied a little too much pressure, but he stayed quiet.

"I don't think you'll need stiches," Elizabeta said. "You're lucky. But I do want to find some disinfectant."

"Why?"

"So you don't get an infection, dummy." Elizabeta immediately regretted her words. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you that."

"It doesn't matter. I've been called a lot worse," Gilbert admitted. "I'm used to it."

Elizabeta kept her mouth shut as she continued cleaning Gilbert's arm. _I really have to watch what I say around him. I don't want to offend him._ Then, without thinking, she said, "Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

"No. I was just going to wander around town or break in here after school and sleep in a classroom."

Elizabeta couldn't tell whether or not he was joking, but she suggested, "If you want, you can stay over at my place. I'm sure my mom won't mind."

Gilbert shook his head. "No, that's okay," he said. "I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"You wouldn't be a bother. Honest," Elizabeta said with a smile. "My mom's super nice. I think she'd be happy to know I'm being hospitable. She'll say that she raised me right!"

"You...live with your mom?"

"Yeah, why do you ask? Oh..." It was then that Elizabeta remembered that he didn't have a mother. _How insensitive can I be? You idiot!_

"Do you really think she'd let me stay with you? Because honesty I don't have anywhere to go." Gilbert sounded hopeful.

Elizabeta beamed. "Of course. She'll be happy to let you in. I promise."

_**A/N:**_** Sorry that this one's so short. I promise that the next one will be longer, though!**

**Guys, thanks so much for so many views! It makes me super happy to know that this is actually pretty popular. I love you all.**


	10. Breakaway (Kelly Clarkson)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun (it's starting to show, guys!)**

**Thanks for the kind reviews! As always, please enjoy!**

"My mom's really nice. She'll make sure you feel right at home. And she makes really good food." Elizabeta and Gilbert were standing in front of the school, waiting for Elizabeta's mother to come and pick them up. Naturally, Elizabeta was describing her family life.

Gilbert stayed quiet while she spoke. He was amazed that she was so happy at home. He couldn't remember the last time he and his family had been happy.

"We don't have a guest room, so you'll have to stay in the living room," Elizabeta went on. "You shouldn't mind too much, though. Our couch is really comfy."

Offering a small smile, Gilbert said, "That's good. And I can't wait to meet your mother."

"She'll be happy to meet you, too," Elizabeta replied. Then she pointed and said, "That's her car. Don't worry, I already texted her. She knows you're coming home with us."

Ms. Héderváry's car pulled up to the curb a minute later. Elizabeta opened the front passenger door and jumped in. She looked at Gilbert. "You sit in the back." Then she closed her door.

Gilbert hesitantly opened the back door to the car and got in. He didn't say a word when the car pulled away from the school.

"So Mom, this is Gilbert," Elizabeta said. "He's the one I was telling you about." She turned in her seat to look at Gilbert. "Say hi."

"Uh, hi, Ms. Héderváry," Gilbert said slowly. "I've heard a lot about you."

"All good stuff, I imagine?" Ms. Héderváry laughed.

"Um, yeah. Elizabeta told me that you're really nice."

With a smile, Ms. Héderváry said, "I hope she's right about that. When she texted me and asked if you could stay with us, I couldn't refuse. I'm glad that she was considerate enough to offer you a place to stay for the time being."

"You raised me right, Mom." Elizabeta beamed. "By the way, what are we having for dinner tonight?"

"Either chicken paprikash or goulash. Whatever you'd like."

"Ooh, chicken paprikash. You make the best," Elizabeta gushed. "It's so good. I'm getting hungry just thinking about it!"

"I'll start making it when we get home," Ms. Héderváry said. "You're not allergic to anything, are you, Gilbert?"

Gilbert shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Have you ever had chicken paprikash before?"

"No. I've heard of it, though. What is it?" Gilbert asked.

"It's stew with chicken and paprika," Ms. Héderváry explained. "It's an old dish from Hungary. The recipe's been in our family for years."

"It's amazing," Elizabeta added.

"It sounds good," Gilbert said softly. "I can't wait to try it."

Before long, the car pulled into the driveway of the Héderváry house. Elizabeta got out of the car and waited for Gilbert, who thanked Ms. Héderváry and got out of the car as well. Elizabeta took Gilbert's hand and led him inside to show him around. Ms. Héderváry followed shortly after.

"So this is our house!" Elizabeta said. "Kitchen's there, living room's there, and the bathroom's down the hall to the left." She happily dragged Gilbert upstairs. "My room's here. My mom's is over there. Our other bathroom's in between our two rooms. I know you probably won't be coming up here too often, but I still want you to know what it's like. Any -"

Elizabeta stopped talking when Gilbert suddenly hugged her. "Thank you so much," he said. "If it weren't for you, I don't know what I'd be doing."

"I just didn't want you to be alone," Elizabeta replied. "Even if you didn't agree to stay here, I knew that at least I tried."

"You're the only one who's ever made an effort. From the moment I first met you, I knew you were different from everyone else. In a good way. You don't have the same attitude like the other kids do. You're kinder, more considerate... Sure, I thought you were really annoying at first, but now I see that you're actually really nice." Gilbert looked down. "That's my way of saying thank you."

Elizabeta smiled. "Thank _you_ for letting me into your life. After all you've been through, you need someone who will listen and give you advice," she said. "When I was small, I hated seeing people who were upset, and I told myself that one day I would help someone. And here I am helping you."

"You're a good person, Elizabeta. Possibly one of the best people I've ever known. Your mother's also a good person, the way she's taking in some depressed loser kid she'd never met."

"Don't call yourself that," Elizabeta sighed. "You're a good person, too. Trust me. Just like everyone else, you're worth something." She gently touched Gilbert's cheek, smiling warmly. "Do you believe me?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah, I believe you."

"Good," Elizabeta said. "Now come on, dinner will be ready soon." Once again taking Gilbert's hand, she led him downstairs and into the dining room. "You sit down, I'll set the table and help my mom bring the food out."

"I can help," Gilbert offered. "I don't want to seem lazy."

"You're our guest. Sit." Elizabeta left him alone and went into the kitchen.

After standing awkwardly for a minute or so, Gilbert sat in the closest chair and waited. Soon Elizabeta came out with two plates of food and cutlery. She set one plate in front of Gilbert and took her place beside him. A few minutes later, Ms. Héderváry entered the room and sat across from Elizabeta. She laughed slightly when she saw the way Gilbert was staring at the food before him. "Go ahead, Gilbert," she said.

There was a slight pause, and then Gilbert began shoving food into his mouth as though his life depended on it. Both Elizabeta and her mother watched him curiously for a few seconds before exchanging a glance of mild confusion. They both knew what the other was thinking: _When was the last time he ate something?_

Before long, Gilbert had finished his entire meal and leaned back in his chair. He didn't seem to notice the strange looks he was getting and said, "That was really good."

"I'm...glad you liked it," Ms. Héderváry said. "Would you like some more?"

Gilbert nodded quickly. "Yes, please."

Elizabeta passed her plate to Gilbert. "Here," she said. "I'm full."

"Thanks." Within a minute, the plate was empty.

"Were you that hungry, Gilbert?" Ms. Héderváry asked.

"Yeah... I haven't had anything to eat for a couple days, I think," Gilbert said.

"Why not?"

Gilbert shrugged. "There's never a lot of food at my place," he explained. "And when there is, I'm not really supposed to eat it."

Ms. Héderváry's expression changed as she inquired, "Why aren't you supposed to eat it?"

"It's my stepmother's rule. She hates me. She always tells me that I'm nothing but a waste of space, a piece of shit. According to her, only people who are worth something are allowed to eat. So I always have to sneak food when she's not around."

"That's terrible," Ms. Héderváry said.

"I'm used to it," Gilbert replied. "But thank you very much for making this wonderful food."

"You're welcome. Would you like anything else?"

"No, thanks." Gilbert stood up. "May I be excused? I'm kind of tired."

Ms. Héderváry nodded. "Of course."

With an awkward smile and a nod, Gilbert quickly left the room. Once he was out of earshot, Ms. Héderváry looked at Elizabeta and whispered, "You never told me what he's been through."

"I wasn't going to say anything in front of him!" Elizabeta hissed. "He's been through hell. His mom killed herself when he was nine and his father blamed him. Plus his stepmom's a huge bitch and he has no friends because he's albino. I'm literally the only kid at that whole school who's ever talked to him." She sighed. "Now do you understand? He's just a poor lonely kid who needs a friend."

"And that's why you offered him a place to stay."

"Yes. Now if you'll excuse me, I had a long day at school and I'm going to my room." Elizabeta jumped to her feet and left the dining room, hurrying up the stairs.

. . . .

Gilbert couldn't sleep. The unfamiliar living room was dark and scary to him. On top of that, the only clothes he had was his uniform that he'd been wearing for two days straight. _I really need more clothes._ He was so grateful that Elizabeta had offered to let him stay with her. She had literally saved his life. _I was going to end everything tonight. I had everything planned out. And then...she was kind enough to find me, to listen to me, to take me in... She cares. She really does care._

He sat up and looked around. It had to be sometime past midnight. He decided that, because he was also pretty lonely, he would go upstairs and find Elizabeta. Maybe she was having trouble sleeping too and would want to talk to him. Yes, that was a brilliant idea.

Getting up from the couch, Gilbert felt his way to the stairs, trying not to trip over anything and break his face. He finally found the stairs and scampered up to the second floor, trying to remember which room was Elizabeta's. He decided it was the one that had a sign reading "Elizabeta" in fancy letters on the door. The door was open slightly, so he approached it and quietly entered the room.

Elizabeta was sleeping, her gentle breathing the only sound in the room. Gilbert walked over to her bed and stared at her. He felt a bit creepy watching her sleep, but he was lonely. She would understand.

Or maybe not. Elizabeta's eyes fluttered open. When she noticed Gilbert standing over her, she let out a shriek and jumped up. "Wh-what the hell are you doing?"

"I was lonely... I thought maybe you were awake and we could talk," Gilbert said. He wasn't sure whether or not he should mention that her nightgown was falling off her shoulder.

Elizabeta seemed to notice what her nightgown was doing and quickly adjusted it. "I didn't say you could come into my room," she exclaimed. "Go back downstairs."

"But I'm lonely." Gilbert tried to put on his best pouty face. "Let me sleep here tonight. Please?"

Elizabeta glared. Then she said, "Fine. But you're sleeping on the floor. And you're not allowed to touch me."

"Why would I touch -" Gilbert was cut off by Elizabeta throwing a pillow at his face. "What's this for?"

"So you're at least a little comfortable. Good night." With that, Elizabeta turned onto her other side and fell silent.

Gilbert grinned to himself. _She does care. Sort of._ With that thought in mind, he lay down on the floor and put the pillow under his head. He fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

_**A/N:**_** At the time I posted this chapter, this story had 523 views. Guys, that makes me feel so happy. I never expected that. I want to hug you all!**

**Chicken paprikash (Hungarian: paprikás csirke) is a very popular Hungarian dish. My aunt was born in Hungary and makes this all the time; it's delicious! It's a stew made with paprika and often served with nokedli, which are boiled egg noodles similar to spätzle. If you ever get the chance, you have to try it. It's so worth it.**


	11. Because of You (Kelly Clarkson)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**I meant to have this chapter up last night, but my computer's internet was being fussy and kept kicking me off every five minutes. However, I was able to check reviews on my phone, and I got a kind review from a Guest giving me suggestions and stuff. So I revised this chapter (for the 10th time in two days) to work in some of what they said. It makes me so happy to get reviews, and I try my hardest to work in suggestions. It helps to make me a better writer. Thank you, everyone, for reading. I hope you keep enjoying.**

**(And Guest, if you're reading this, you didn't come across as bossy. You took the time to offer how I could improve the plot, and I really appreciate that :) )**

**Also, there's a little bit of humour in the beginning because I know how dark the story's been (and will continue to be), so I thought we needed some mood-lightening.**

Elizabeta had a strange night. First she'd been unable to fall asleep. Then she had the feeling that someone had come into her room in the middle of the night. She'd been groggy at the time, so she wasn't really sure if it had actually happened or if it was just her imagination.

Her alarm went off at that exact moment and nearly gave her a heart attack. With a groan, she rolled over and turned it off. Then she noticed the pillow on the floor. "How the hell did that get there?" she mumbled. Within a few minutes, the events of the previous night came back to her.

_That's right, Gilbert snuck in here and demanded to sleep here. I gave him the pillow and went back to sleep. But wait, where is he now?_

Most likely he was stealing food from the kitchen. Whatever. He was staying here, so he could basically do what he wanted.

Elizabeta got up and went to her closet to get her uniform. She placed it on her bed and slipped out of her nightgown. "Now where did I put my bra?" She wandered around her room for some time before she heard a choked noise by her door. She froze. _Crap, I left it open._ Slowly, she turned to face the intruder.

Gilbert was standing in the doorway, holding a piece of toast in his hand. His face was bright red, and his eyes were locked on her chest.

Elizabeta was unsure of what to do, so she kept standing there. _Thank God I'm at least wearing underwear._ Then she came out of her daze and snapped, "Get out!"

Gilbert, however, remained unmoving. He just blinked.

_Goddammit._ Elizabeta covered her chest with one arm and marched over to the door. "Out!" Before Gilbert could respond, she slammed the door in his face.

"Ow!" Gilbert cried from the other side of the door. "That was my nose!"

"You're a pervert!" Elizabeta shouted. "Why were you just standing there?"

"I was coming to see if you were awake! I didn't know you were going to be naked!"

"Ugh! Stop talking!" Elizabeta quickly managed to get dressed and threw her door open. "Mention this to no one."

Gilbert scoffed. "Hey, I don't talk to anyone but you," he said. "No one will ever know."

"Good." After smoothing her skirt, Elizabeta snatched the toast from Gilbert's hand and took a bite, ignoring his protests. "It's burnt," she noted.

"Yeah, well, I haven't had much experience with toasters in my life," Gilbert said sarcastically.

Again Elizabeta couldn't tell if he was joking. She shrugged and finished the toast before saying, "Is that uniform the only thing you ever wear? It's filthy!"

"That's because I've worn it for... I think this is the third day," Gilbert remarked. "I don't have a lot of other clothes. The stuff that I do have is back at that hell of a house where I used to live."

Elizabeta sighed. "At least promise me you'll wash it after school today."

"Yeah, I don't really know how to use a washing ma-"

"Then I'll wash it for you!" Elizabeta was slightly exasperated. This kid had no life skills, no social skills, nothing. _How the hell will he make it as an adult? He will make it to adulthood, right? Yes, he has to. I'll make sure of it._

"Hey, you know we're going to be late for school, right?" Gilbert pointed out. "Just saying."

"Shit! We can't be late! Mom! Start the car!" Elizabeta flew down the stairs. "Come on, Gilbert!" After a minute, Gilbert reluctantly followed her.

. . . .

They arrived at school and managed to make it into their classroom just before the bell rang. As they made their way to their seats, they failed to notice the strange looks they were getting from the other students.

"Ah, thank you for joining us today, you two," Mr. Vargas said. "You made it just in time."

Elizabeta smiled. "We didn't want to be late, sir!" That was when she realized that some of the students were looking at her strangely. Laura Dupont nudged Natalya Arlovskaya and whispered something to her, pointing at Elizabeta and Gilbert. Natalya gasped and glanced in Elizabeta's direction. Then she whispered something back to Laura.

_What are they talking about?_ Elizabeta thought. She watched as Laura pulled out her phone and shot off a text. Almost immediately, several phones went off, and their owners checked their messages. The air in the room suddenly felt very heavy, though Elizabeta might have been the only one to feel this. She glanced back at Gilbert.

Gilbert was surveying the room uneasily. When his eyes met Elizabeta's, he mouthed, _Get over here._

Elizabeta glanced over at Mr. Vargas, who was preoccupied with silently taking attendance. Elizabeta got up from her seat and went over to Gilbert's desk. "What is it?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"You know what that text was about, right?"

"You mean the one Laura just sent?" Elizabeta shook her head. "No, I don't know."

"This room is filled with people who gossip and spread rumours," Gilbert said. "I guarantee you that text was about us."

Elizabeta frowned. "Us? Why?" she asked. "What have we done?"

"We were late and we both look like crap. Well, I look crappier than you. You look pretty. No, scratch that." Gilbert let out a long sigh. "Point is, we came in together. Most of them saw us go home together last night. I'm pretty sure they think that we, uh..."

Before he could go on, there was a knock on the door. Gilbert and Elizabeta looked up.

An office attendant was standing by the door. "Mr. Vargas, is there a Gilbert Beilschmidt here?" she asked.

Mr. Vargas nodded and replied, "Yes, he is." He looked to the back of the room. "Gilbert, someone's here for you."

A couple students started laughing quietly. "Bet he's finally getting expelled," one said. "No, he's definitely getting sent to juvie," another joked.

Elizabeta glanced at Gilbert, who stood up and glared at the other students. But, of course, they weren't looking at him. They were just laughing at him. He turned to Elizabeta and said, "If I'm not back in ten minutes, ask to be excused and come find me. Okay?"

"Okay." Elizabeta nodded. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Slowly, Gilbert made his way to the front of the room. He gave Elizabeta a final, slighty frightened glance as he was led out of the class.

_Please be okay, Gilbert_, Elizabeta thought as she went back to her own desk. _I hope you're not in trouble for anything._

. . . .

Gilbert had no idea what to expect when he was brought to the office. Right away he saw his younger brother sitting in one of the chairs across from the front desk. Ludwig looked up when he heard the door open, and his eyes lit up when he noticed who it was. "Gilbert?" he said, standing.

"Ludwig? What are you doing in here?" Gilbert immediately sensed something was wrong.

"You never came home last night," Ludwig replied. "We thought you'd run away again or gotten killed or something. We were worried!"

Gilbert stiffened. "Don't lie to me. You weren't worried," he hissed. "You guys have never worried about me."

"I worry about you," Ludwig said softly. "You're my brother. When you didn't come home, I thought it was because of something I'd done. I'd hate to feel guilty if something happened to you. Oh, by the way..." He looked right at Gilbert. "Did you hurt Brigitta? Because when I came home last night, there was a cut on her cheek and she said you used a razor on her. Is that true?"

"Do not call her that!" _They've gotten to him. He's calling the bitch by her first name. How could you, Ludwig? How could you fall for their tricks?_ "She got what she deserved. You don't understand. She is a terrible person. She only brings bad things. I did what I had to do."

"What's wrong with you? You weren't like this when we were little!" Ludwig exclaimed. "We used to be best friends, and now... Why can't you be normal again? Go back to the way you were before -"

_Smack!_ Ludwig looked shocked when Gilbert's hand made contact with his cheek. The two boys stared at each other for quite some time, neither saying a word. Finally, Gilbert spoke, but his voice was dangerously low and calm.

"I can't go back to the way I used to be. Too much has happened. Don't you remember what happened seven years ago? When Mom died? When the only person who loved me left forever? Don't you remember our bastard father blaming me? I was nine. How do you think I felt being blamed for my own mother's death? I've had to live with that guilt for seven years. Seven fucking years, Ludwig! On top of that, when our father married that bitch, oh, that just made everything worse. Of course, you wouldn't know. You're the perfect kid, the kid every parent dreams of. You're polite. You do your homework. You go to school. You get good grades in everything. That's why the bitch never made your life hell. It's not fair. I didn't ask to be different. It's not my fault." He took a breath. "Using that razor on her felt good. I finally got to do what _I_ wanted. I've been bound by rules for too long."

Ludwig's eyes widened. "Gilbert... Why? If you had told us about the way you were feeling earlier, we could have gotten you help."

"I don't want help." Gilbert looked away. "I'm too far gone to be helped. I'm never going to amount to anything. That's what everyone says." Then he stopped. _No... Elizabeta said that I'm worth something. She believes in me. She's the only one who does. She said I'm a good person. She was being honest, I think. But...can I really believe her? I'm too scared to trust. Trust gets you nowhere. This world is built on lies and deception. But maybe some people are good... Elizabeta's a good person. Still, I don't trust her fully._

Ludwig was about to respond, but at that moment the door to the principal's office opened, and their father and stepmother walked out. When they saw Gilbert, their expressions changed from mild satisfaction to subtle annoyance.

"Oh. Gilbert, you're actually here," Mr. Beilschmidt said, with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm here. Are you going to give me a medal or something?" Gilbert turned away and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Can I go now? I have class."

"No, we're going to discuss the way you've been acting. The principal was telling us that you only show up for your first class and skip your other ones. Is this true?"

"So what if it is? You're fully aware I'm not going to graduate," Gilbert said. "Just leave me alone. It shouldn't be too hard. You've only been ignoring me for my whole life."

A frown flashed across Mr. Beilschmidt's face. "Don't talk to me like that. It's not true."

"But you hate me. You always have. You really think I wanted to be different? I didn't ask to look like this. None of this is my fault. It's your fault." Gilbert glared at his father. "What was going through your head when you decided to blame Mom's death on me? You thought a nine-year-old would be able to bear that kind of guilt? The reason my life is so fucked up is because of you. You've been messing with my head ever since I was little. Everything is your fault!"

"Do not raise your voice. We're in public."

"What, you don't want anyone to know that you've been emotionally abusing me all these years? Fuck that. Everyone should know. Everyone should know what a horrible person you are. I hate you. I hate you so much. You're the worst kind of person in this world." As Gilbert spoke, he felt around in his pocket.

His hand touched the razor that had been in there since the morning before.

_**A/N:**_** Random side note: My drama teacher this semester looks so much like Austria. Seriously. I know this has nothing to do with the story, but I felt it was important information.**

**Also, I'm pretty sure Gilbert's never used a toaster before. It would confound him.**

**This chapter went through so many revisions, as I touched upon earlier. I wanted Gilbert to finally confront his father about everything, and we see that here. Of course, there's more to come. I hope you like it!**


	12. Boulevard of Broken Dreams (Green Day)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**So I'm taking a Genocide &amp; Crimes Against Humanity course this semester. On Monday we're going to be discussing our heritage (considering my great-great-grandfather was in the White Russian Army, I think it should be fun). (And I have the same name as Archduke Franz Ferdinand's wife, so I was a huge joke in my History class last year). Completely irrelevant to the plot here. Just random facts about my supremely boring life.**

**Please enjoy this chapter!**

Elizabeta glanced at the clock. Nine minutes had passed since Gilbert had left the room. _If he's not back in one minute, then I have to go look for him. I hope he's not in trouble for anything._ Naturally, she was too caught up in her thoughts to be paying any attention to the lesson. So when she heard Mr. Vargas say, "Okay, get into groups now," she was confused and unsure of what to do.

As she looked around, she made eye contact with Laura, who motioned for her to come over. Seeing as everyone else was already in groups, Elizabeta stood up and went over to Laura's desk, sitting in an empty chair nearby. "So what are we working on?" Elizabeta asked.

"No clue. I wasn't paying attention. But..." Laura's eyes narrowed slightly. "What's up with you and Beilschmidt? I saw you two going home together yesterday, and then today you came in with him. There's something going on. Tell me."

"Nothing's 'going on'," Elizabeta said. "We're friends, that's all."

Laura scoffed. "You're kidding, right? No one can be friends with him. He's a selfish jerk who doesn't care about anyone but himself."

"That isn't true. He just has a lot going on in his personal life. Underneath that act of toughness, he's actually really sweet and vulnerable." Elizabeta smiled slightly. "He had nowhere to stay last night, so I let him stay at my house."

"And did you do anything?" Natalya asked.

Elizabeta cocked her head. "Like what?"

"Come on, stop acting," Laura said. "Everyone can tell."

"I have no idea what you guys are talking about," Elizabeta responded. "We went home, I gave him a tour of the house, we had dinner with my mom, we talked, and that's it. Nothing more."

"So you didn't sleep together?"

"What?" Elizabeta exclaimed. "No! Are you crazy?"

Laura held up her hands. "Hey, calm down. It was just an assumption."

"Why would you think something like that? I'm not that kind of person!" Elizabeta's face was bright red. "We did absolutely nothing like that, I swear to God."

"All right. I believe you," Laura said. "But I, uh, kind of texted the whole class that you, uh, you know..."

"I told you not to do that," Natalya muttered.

"Oh, shut up, Natalya." With a sigh, Laura looked at Elizabeta. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have texted everyone. Are we cool now?"

"No! We are not 'cool'." Elizabeta crossed her arms. "Now the whole class thinks I'm some kind of slut! Honestly, how do you think that makes me feel?"

"What did you guys talk about?" Natalya asked, changing the subject.

Elizabeta shrugged. "A lot of stuff. He's been through so much. I'm happy that he feels comfortable enough with me to tell me about his life."

"You like him, don't you?"

"No... At least, I don't think so." With a frown, Elizabeta shook her head. "Even if I did like him, it's not like he would ever like me back. He's so cautious around people. It would take him years to fully trust me."

Laura offered a sympathetic smile. "You're a nice person. Maybe it won't take him too long to trust you."

"He talked to you, so I'm sure he has some sort of feelings for you," Natalya added.

"Yeah. Maybe you guys are right," Elizabeta said with a smile.

. . . .

Gilbert's hand tightened around the razor's handle. If worse came to worse, he would use it to defend himself. Of course, being as high-strung as he was, he would probably react to the slightest thing.

His father's expression darkened. "You are not to talk to me that way. It's extremely disrespectful. Why can't you be more like your brother? He's polite and knows his place."

"I will never be like him!" Gilbert shouted. "I'm my own person. I don't want to be anyone else. Why can't anyone understand that?"

"Gilbert..." Ludwig said hesitantly. "Please calm down..."

"Don't tell me what to do. Just shut up and stay out of this. It doesn't concern you." Ideas for an escape plan ran through Gilbert's mind. _I could just run out of here... But then they'd chase me. Ooh, I'll keep yelling until Elizabeta shows up. She'll save me. Hopefully. It's been ten minutes. Come on, chop chop. Get down here. Please._ He started fiddling with the unseen razor, flinching when it accidentally cut his finger. When he pulled his hand out of his pocket to examine the cut, he heard a clatter and several gasps. Confused, he looked down.

The razor was lying at his feet. It was only then that he realized he had never cleaned off the blood.

"What the hell..." His father stared at the razor. "Where did you get that? Why do you have it? Whose blood is that?"

"I don't have to tell you anything," Gilbert said. "You wouldn't care. You've never cared."

Ludwig looked at his brother with a worried expression on his face. "Gilbert, please tell me you didn't hurt anyone. Please. You're better than that."

"I thought I told you to shut up!" _Why are they interrogating me? Stop it... Leave me alone! You don't know anything. Get out! Get out of my life! Please... Someone help me..._

Gilbert snapped back to reality when his cheek was suddenly slapped. It took him a minute to realize that it was his father who had slapped him. Stunned, Gilbert took a step back, raising his arms to cover his face. He cried out when his father grabbed his right arm and pushed up his sleeve. Gilbert managed to pull his arm away and step back, but by then it was too late.

A tense silence filled the room. Gilbert clutched his arm and trembled, horrified that his secret had been discovered. _No one was supposed to know... What's going to happen to me now? I'm not crazy..._

"Wh-what happened to your arm?" The silence was broken by Ludwig's quiet, shaky voice.

"Nothing. It's nothing," Gilbert said, struggling to keep his voice as even as possible. "Nothing happened. Nothing..."

"You lying piece of shit," Mr. Beilschmidt growled. "You did that to yourself, didn't you? Your mother used to do that. She was messed up in the head. Apparently, so are you. Why are you so much like her?"

"It's not my fault! It's not my fault!" Gilbert shouted, ignoring the tears that began to roll down his face. "Mom loved me... I know she did. She didn't kill herself because of me! I'm sure there was something else going on!" He shook his head wildly. "I'm not part of this family anymore! I'm done! You guys can go on living your perfect fucking life. I quit!"

He ignored his father's angry shouts. He ignored his brother's pleas. Gilbert backed out of the office and ran down the hall, not really sure why or where he was going.

_I'm sorry, Mom... What do I do now? Elizabeta never came to save me. She said she would! I thought things were going to get better. But they're just getting worse, huh? Mom... I don't know where to go from here._

_**A/N:**_** I really have to stop procrastinating. This would have been up hours ago but I kept getting distracted by YouTube. That and I was cooking dinner.**

**03/02/15: I will try to update this as soon as possible! I've just been really busy with the start of the new semester and my heart problems. Questions from the Guest reviews will be answered in the next chapter. I promise!**

**10/02/15: I am SO sorry for not updating this. I've been having some issues coming up with ideas to start the next chapter. Also, I've been going through a lot of shit lately and people on my end aren't exactly being supportive and I don't really know what to do anymore. I'm really stressed about school and for some reason my asthma's acting up. I know you guys probably don't want to hear about my problems, so I'll just end my rant here. Again, I'm sorry.**


	13. Viva La Vida (Coldplay)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**I never meant for it to take so long to post this chapter. I can't apologize enough. I feel terrible for making you guys wait.**

**Also, I said I'd answer questions from the Guest reviews. Here we go:**

**From my school experience, principals don't seem to care about yelling in the office. Once there was a legitimate screaming match in the office of my school and the principal didn't give a shit. But perhaps the principal will try and help Gilbert. I honestly have no idea.**

**Laura's the kind of girl who acts like she's your best friend, but she's actually just a huge gossip who enjoys stirring things up. I'm sure everyone has known that kind of person at least once in their lifetime.**

**We'll find out a bit more about Brigitta, but basically when she first joined the family, she tried to be nice to Gilbert, but seeing as the poor kid was traumatized after his mother's suicide (and was awkward around strangers to begin with), they didn't really get on that well. It was around that time when Gilbert began to withdraw from people, and Brigitta decided he was a lost cause and gave up on trying to befriend him.**

**And was Gilbert really the cause of his mother's death? I can't tell you yet. It will be revealed eventually!**

**Now onto (un)lucky Chapter 13! Please enjoy!**

Gilbert was still running.

He had left the school some time ago and was now hurrying through the wooded area nearby, desperate to get away. From what? His family, who had messed him up from the start? His classmates, who constantly tormented him? Maybe he was just trying to escape himself.

Elizabeta had said that she would help him, and he had believed her. She had offered him her friendship. She had let him into her life and gave him food and a place to sleep. Her kindness had shocked him. When was the last time someone had actually been nice to him? Unlike everyone else in his life, Elizabeta seemed genuine. There were no plastic smiles or false compassion from her. She really was different from the other kids.

Then why hadn't Elizabeta come to check on him? Was she secretly just like everyone else? Had she been lying to him all this time? The logical part of his brain ignored the fact that maybe it was just because ten minutes hadn't yet passed. He was too convinced that the whole world was against him.

His shoe suddenly caught on a tree root and he fell forward, landing face-first on the ground. His cheek scraped against another root as he slid against the muddy trail. For several minutes, Gilbert simply lay there, listening to the sounds of the woods: animals chattering, wind blowing through the trees, the gentle babble of a nearby stream. It was so peaceful, so pure. It was something he didn't deserve.

The only thing he knew was pain and suffering. Anything good that happened to him was just a fluke. Did that mean Elizabeta was a fluke as well? Of course it did. There was no room for happiness in his life. It was something he would never have. No matter how hard he tried, he would never attain it.

He was hated. He was a failure. He would never amount to anything. He was certain that no one would be surprised if he ended up killing himself. To him, life just wasn't worth living anymore. Granted, that had been his main thought for years, but now he realized it was actually true. There was no point in staying alive.

But - and this was a problem - his razor was back at the school. After he'd dropped it, he'd forgotten to pick it up. That didn't matter, however. He'd always been good at improvising. Somehow he'd find another way.

Slowly, Gilbert stood up. He ignored the mud covering the front of his uniform. _Hey, didn't Elizabeta tell me I had to wash this? Well, whatever._ Instead, he touched his cheek, the one that had scraped against the root. When he drew his hand away, he saw blood on his fingers. It was only then that he noticed the stinging sensation coming from his cheek. For some reason, this small pain was one of the most annoying things he'd ever felt. He couldn't understand why. He considered himself to be relatively numb to pain after all these years. So why was this little injury causing him so much grief?

Gilbert shook his head and took a sharp breath. "Just ignore it, you idiot," he muttered. "Nothing matters anymore. It'll all be over soon." Yes, soon everything would come to an end. He would be at peace. And no one would even notice his absence.

He began walking down the path. With his mind so concentrated on his demise, he didn't even realize that he was crying again.

. . . .

The buzzing of her phone pulled Elizabeta out of the conversation. Glancing at it, she saw that her mother had just texted her. More importantly, she realized that almost fifteen minutes had passed since Gilbert had left the classroom. "Ah, sorry," she said, standing up. "But I have to go to the washroom."

Both Laura and Natalya regarded her with mild curiosity. "All right," Laura said nonchalantly. "Whatever."

"We're going to hang out at lunch, right?" Elizabeta asked.

"Whatever," Laura said again. "It doesn't matter to me. Do what you want."

"I'm fine with anything," Natalya added.

Elizabeta frowned slightly. "Okay. I'll see you later, I guess." Deciding not to wait for a response, she left the room. Naturally, she wasn't headed to the washroom. Instead she made her way downstairs to the office, where she knew Gilbert had gone.

There was quite a bit on her mind, so she wasn't paying any attention to where she was going and bumped into a boy coming out of the office. Elizabeta let out a noise of surprise, as did the boy, who then almost immediately said, "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going..."

"Oh, no, don't apologize, it was my fault," Elizabeta replied. "I'm the one who wasn't paying attention." She smiled apologetically and stepped back to get a better look at the boy. He was taller than her, with neat blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. There was no badge on the collar of his shirt, so Elizabeta deduced that he was a first-year. Something about his appearance was vaguely familiar to her.

The boy seemed to be observing her as well. After a moment or two, he said, "You're a third-year, right?" Elizabeta answered in the affirmative, and the boy continued: "Then do you by any chance know my brother? You probably don't, but -"

"What's his name?" Elizabeta asked.

"Gilbert. He's a little shorter than me, and he's -"

"Ah-ha." Elizabeta nodded. "Yes, I do know him," she said. No wonder he looked familiar; this kid was Gilbert's younger brother. "We're friends, actually. He's told me a bit about you."

The boy looked a little flustered. "H-he has? It wasn't anything bad, was it?"

"All he said was that he had a brother, and that you're a huge overachiever," Elizabeta said. "He never told me your name. Or anything else, for that matter."

"Oh. Well, my name's Ludwig. It's funny, Gilbert always said he didn't have any friends."

"Well, I've only just transferred here," Elizabeta explained. "I'm Elizabeta."

"Yeah, he's never mentioned you. But that doesn't really surprise me," Ludwig said with a shrug. "He always keep himself locked up in his room. Whenever I try to talk to him, he either yells at me to go away or just flat-out ignores me. He wasn't like this when we were young... We were friends then."

Elizabeta nodded slowly. "I don't mean to invade on your family life, but do you think it maybe has to do with your mom's death?"

Ludwig's eyes widened. "He told you about that?"

"Yeah. It's pretty likely that his actions are linked to that. But it's just a guess." Elizabeta shrugged. "I'm no psychology major."

"Can I ask... How much do you know? Not just about our mom, but about everything else."

"Uh, I know he hates your dad and stepmom. His reasons are kind of odd, though. And I'm sure he's jealous of you for being good at everything." Elizabeta thought for a minute. "I also know about, um..." She gestured to her arm. "I saw before he actually said anything. It makes me so sad that he's experiencing all this pain. No one deserves to feel like that."

"Why would he tell you and not say anything to me?" Ludwig asked, mostly to himself. "How many times have I told him that I can help? Did I do something wrong?"

"Hey, don't get mad at yourself," Elizabeta said. "It's not your fault. You don't always know someone's reasoning for something. I don't know why he told me. But what I do know is that he's convinced nothing's worth it anymore. All we can do is hope that the rational part of his mind stops him from doing anything too serious."

Ludwig nodded and sighed. "Oh, by the way," he said, "do you know where he is?"

"No." Elizabeta shook her head. "I thought he was in the office."

"He was, but he ran out a few minutes ago. I have no idea where he went."

Elizabeta ran a hand through her hair. "Oh, no..." One thought was running through her head: _I hope he's not going to hurt himself..._

_**A/N:**_** I am so sorry for making you wait for so long! Ugh! I'm a bad person.**

**Gilbert's thoughts are so contradictory. Then again, so are my thoughts. Can't our brains just shut up for a few minutes?!**

**Also, I just realized while writing this that Gilbert refers to his family with singular pronouns (such as "my") while Ludwig uses plural pronouns (like "our"). It just goes to show you that Ludwig still considers them to be a whole family, while Gilbert's detached himself. This is completely irrelevant. I'm going to shut up now.**


	14. Coming Home Part II (Skylar Grey)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Thank you for 1,500 views! I love you all so much. There's drama in this chapter (but hasn't there been drama in every other chapter?). Enjoy!**

"Fuck the cops," Gilbert muttered to himself as the police cruiser drove past him for the third time. He had ended up on the town's main street hours ago and was trying to ignore the strange looks he was getting. Granted, he did stand out quite a bit-the front of his shirt was covered in mud and his hair was hopelessly matted-but that didn't mean people could judge him, right? Of course, in a town like this it was only natural to be judged for being different. Considering that almost every other kid actually attended all of their classes and got good grades, he was viewed as an outcast, the kid no one wanted.

Had he ever been wanted? He had been so convinced all these years that his mother had loved him, but now he wasn't so sure. _Is it true... Is it because of me that she killed herself?_ He didn't want to believe it, but maybe it was true. He was despised that much.

A loud crack of thunder startled him, and almost immediately fat raindrops began to fall down from the sky. Gilbert looked up at the dark sky, letting the rain land on his face. It was calming in a way. To him, it felt as though the world was crying. Crying for all the lost souls. Crying because of destruction and devastation. Crying because nothing could be done.

The rain was almost appropriate, seeing as Gilbert was filled with so much emotional pain that he couldn't handle it. Maybe the world would be a better place without him. That had to be the truth.

More thunder rumbled across the sky as rain poured down. Within minutes, Gilbert was completely soaked, and he shivered slightly. He wanted the rain to just wash him away.

He jumped when he heard the honk of a car horn. Turning to his left, he saw the all-too-familiar police cruiser parked by the curb. The window rolled down and the officer inside called out, "Hey, kid, what are you doing out in the rain?"

Gilbert shrugged, unsure of how to respond. "I...like it," he said slowly. "And I don't really have anywhere to go."

The officer squinted. "Aren't you Gilbert Beilschmidt? The kid who always runs away?" he asked.

"Um..." _Shit._ "I don't know who you're talking about..."

"Don't lie," the officer said. "Get in. Your parents are looking for you."

Gilbert bit his lip. He wanted to say, "Leave me alone."

He wanted to say, "Don't tell me what to do."

He wanted to say, "My family doesn't care about me."

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to cry.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to disappear.

He didn't do what he wanted.

He got into the car.

. . . .

Ludwig looked up from his book when he heard a knock on the door. Before he could get up from his spot on the couch and answer it, he saw his father walk past the room to get the door. Setting his book down beside him, Ludwig listened quietly at the seemingly distant conversation. Though it was a little difficult for him to hear, he recognized his father's voice before hearing someone else - his brother.

The door slammed shut, and right away his father yelled: "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Then there was Gilbert's voice: "Nothing's wrong with me. I'm fine."

"That's a lie. You're the most fucked-up person I've ever known. If it wasn't for you, your mother might still be alive."

"Stop saying -"

There was a smack and a cry of pain from Gilbert. Ludwig flinched as his father continued, "You shut your mouth. You know better than to talk back to me. Now go to your room. You are not to leave until I give you permission. Get out of my sight."

Ludwig remained sitting quietly as he watched his brother hurry up the stairs. He waited several more minutes before getting up and following him. "Gilbert, are you okay?" Ludwig called, making his way to his brother's room.

Gilbert's door was shut and almost certainly locked. There was no response-only the soft sound of crying. Listening carefully, Ludwig could hear quiet muttering. "It's not my fault, it's not my fault." Over and over. Occasionally broken by sobs.

Ludwig knocked on the door. "Hey, talk to me," he said. "I'm really worried about you. If you want to talk, I'm here."

"Shut up," he heard Gilbert answer. "Go away. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you. You're just like everyone else. Go away."

"But -"

"Are you deaf? Fuck off." The door suddenly swung open, and Ludwig was met with Gilbert's angry glare. "Leave me alone. You don't understand anything about how I feel. You're not worried about me! You don't want me to talk about my problems! You just want me to be normal like the rest of the world." Gilbert took a breath. "Can't you tell that I'll never be normal? I'm not like you. I'm not a good person. I'm sorry."

Ludwig regarded Gilbert cautiously. The quick change of mood from pissed off to sad and apologetic was somewhat concerning. Still, he remained quiet and listened.

"I'm a bad person. There's nothing I can do to change that. You'll always be better than me. I'll always be the outcast." Gilbert's voice was shaking ever so slightly, but he kept talking. "I've been a terrible big brother. I'm so sorry. I wish I'd tried harder. Then maybe things would be different. But the past can't be changed."

"Why are you talking like this?" Ludwig asked. He couldn't shake the sudden feeling of dread that overcame him. "Things can change..."

"They can't. I'm sorry." Gilbert smiled weakly. "Everything will be better without me, I'm sure of it. Have a good life. You won't be needing me anymore."

"Gilbert, wait!" Ludwig cried. But Gilbert had already closed the door, locking it with a click. Ludwig frantically pounded on the door, but there was no response.

**_A/N:_**** This has taken FOREVER to post because I had no ideas for it. It definitely ended on a different note than I expected. What do you think's gonna happen next?**


	15. Don't Dream It's Over (Crowded House)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Guess who spent the night in the hospital? :/**

Elizabeta couldn't sleep.

It was past midnight and she was laying on her bed in the dark, but she wasn't tired. Her mind was in overdrive. She was worried. Gilbert had never come home. She hadn't even seen him since first period.

Where had he gone? She remembered that he had mentioned running away before, but that had been when he'd lived with his family. She thought that maybe he would have come back here. She and her mother wouldn't judge him, and he'd be safe at their house. He didn't have a cell phone, so she couldn't call him. All she could do was lay here and hope he was okay.

"Of course he's okay." Elizabeta was surprised when she heard her voice. She hadn't meant to say her thought out loud. But she realized that she was just trying to reassure herself. Truthfully, she had no clue whether or not Gilbert was okay. She actually doubted it.

Elizabeta sat up and turned on the lamp on her nightstand, trying to make sense of Gilbert's running off. "He's clearly depressed," she mused. "He has no friends except for me. I don't know how long he's been cutting, but judging by the scars on his arm it's been a few years. He doesn't know how to take care of himself. He's been neglected by his father. He's jealous of his brother. In his eyes, there's only one way out. And that's..." Elizabeta paused as a realization came over her. The reason why he ran away...

"He's going to kill himself." She suddenly felt dizzy. "All my efforts to try and befriend him are going to go to waste. There's nothing I can do, is there?"

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of the phone ringing from downstairs. Confused, she dragged herself out of her bed and made her way down the stairs to the phone table. Flipping on the light, Elizabeta picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. "Hello?"

All she heard from the other end was shaky breathing. Annoyed, Elizabeta was about to hang up when she heard a voice come through: "Elizabeta? Please tell me that's you."

"Yes, it is," Elizabeta replied. "Who is this?"

"It's Gilbert. Listen -"

Elizabeta breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God you're okay. I was worried about you! Where are you? How did you get this number?"

"I looked you up in the phone book," came Gilbert's blunt response. "I'm sorry for calling you this late, but I just... I needed to talk to you."

"What is it?" Elizabeta asked.

"I don't know what to do anymore. I thought things were getting better, but they're not. I'm sorry. I know how much you wanted to be friends with me."

"Gilbert, where are you right now?" _I have to keep him talking. He'll stay safe that way, right?_

"I'm at my house. The police brought me back," Gilbert said. "I got in so much trouble for running away again. They don't want me here anymore. I know they're going to send me away. I don't want that. I'm scared."

"You can come and stay here again," Elizabeta suggested. "You liked it here, didn't you? Come on, it's okay."

"I'd love to, but I can't. I'm not allowed to leave here until my dad gives me permission. I know that sounds stupid, but he's awful when he's angry. I don't know what he'd do if he found me sneaking out. I'm sorry, but I'm staying here."

"But you're not going to do anything bad, right? We can talk for as long as you want," Elizabeta said, trying to hide the fear in her voice. "It's okay. Just stay on the phone. You'll be all right."

"I want to believe you, but I just can't. I don't think anything will work." There was a long silence. "Thank you so much for making the effort to be friends with me. You have no idea how much that means. You're a good person, Elizabeta. Remember that. Whoever you end up with will be the luckiest person on earth."

"H-hey, don't start like that. You're going to be okay." Elizabeta didn't care that her voice sounded panicked. She _was_ panicking. "We'll see each other at school tomorrow. Just keep that in mind, all right? I can help you -"

She heard a weak laugh from the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone can help me. Thank you for caring about me, though. At least I was able to find one friend."

"Don't hang up. Stay on the line. Gilbert, talk to me. Gilbert!" It took her several seconds to realize he had hung up. Elizabeta dropped the receiver in shock before she screamed.

Then she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. "Erzsi, why are you yelling? Are you okay?" Her mother appeared beside her.

Elizabeta frantically shook her head. Her voice was shaking as she said, "I-it's Gilbert. He called and said that he needed to talk, and he just kept going on about how sorry he was for everything and that nothing's worth it anymore, a-and then he hung up... I'll look up his address. Call an ambulance, please!"

. . . .

Why was everything turning so terrible? He'd been fine yesterday. Then it all changed.

_Nothing's going to get better. This is it. There's nothing more I can do._

As he sat on the floor tying his belt into a noose, Gilbert was barely aware that he was crying. One thought was running through his mind: _This is it._ He didn't care how much it would hurt or how long it would take. No amount of physical pain could ever trump the pain he felt inside.

He was determined to follow through with this. It wouldn't be like all those other times when he was too scared. Everything was going to end tonight.

In the back of his mind, he thought about Elizabeta. She had done everything in her power to help him. _But I can't be helped._ He'd called her just to hear her voice one last time. He felt awful for doing this to her, but there was nothing else he could do. This was it. Hopefully she wouldn't get too upset.

Everything would be over soon.

This was it.

This was the end.

_**A/N:**_** Yes, I enjoy writing cliffhangers to keep you in suspense. But I am going to say that Gilbert won't die. You'll find out how and why not in the next chapter or so. I don't kill off main characters. Besides, this story will have a happy ending. Or as happy as I can make it.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	16. Wake Me Up (Avicii)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**I'm so sorry for all the shit I've put you guys through. I'm amazed (and glad) that you've stayed with it!**

"I have some unfortunate news," Mr. Vargas had said that morning. "Gilbert Beilschmidt is in the hospital following an apparent suicide attempt last night."

Elizabeta was still in shock. It all felt like a dream. It had to be. This wasn't happening. Soon she would just wake up and everything will be all right.

But this was reality.

Despite the news, none of Elizabeta's classmates seemed bothered. They were eerily calm, as though it didn't affect them. Elizabeta knew that no one had liked Gilbert - they didn't even speak to him - but shouldn't they feel at least a little bit of sympathy for him? _He never did anything wrong. If these kids weren't so judgmental, maybe this never would have happened._

Elizabeta stared blankly at the work package in front of her. She couldn't focus - no, she didn't want to focus. She was worried about Gilbert. She had no idea how he was doing. Was he awake or in a coma? How much damage had he done to himself? Would she be able to see him?

"Elizabeta? Hey, are you okay?"

"Huh?" Elizabeta jumped when she heard Antonio's voice. Then she nodded, avoiding looking at him. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? You don't seem like yourself," Antonio said quietly. "You can talk to me, you know."

Elizabeta shook her head. "No, it's okay. I'll be fine." Trying her best to fake a smile, she turned to Antonio and repeated, "I'm fine."

Antonio looked doubtful, but he shrugged and said, "All right," as he went back to his work.

With a sigh, Elizabeta looked at her own paper. The words weren't making any sense to her. They were blurring together and making nonsensical sentences. She was dizzy. She felt nauseous. Then she began to cry.

It wasn't loud, melodramatic crying. It was soft and muted, as she didn't want anyone to know. Tears escaped her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. _Just do your work,_ she thought. _Do your stupid work._ But she couldn't. Her brain wasn't listening to her. It was making her think of all the bad things, like it wanted her to completely break down in front of everyone.

Before she knew it, the bell rang for lunch. Elizabeta decided that she would do the package for homework as she started to pack up. _Maybe I should just call Mom and tell her I'm not feeling well. She might come and pick me up. I mean, I'd be telling the truth._

She made it out of the classroom and halfway down the stairs before the tears came streaming down her cheeks. Leaning against the wall, she wiped her face with her sleeve and took a few breaths to compose herself. Then she pulled out her phone and dialed her mother's number.

After a minute or two, there was no answer, so she hung up. _I'll try later._ As she was about to continue down the stairs and go to the cafeteria, she saw Laura and Natalya coming down after her. "Elizabeta!" Laura called. "How are you?"

Elizabeta could sense some insincerity in her voice, but she shrugged it off. "I'm...fine, I guess," she replied.

"You are? Oh, that's good!" Laura smiled. "I thought you'd be sad. You know, with the news we got this morning."

"What? Oh, yeah..." Elizabeta looked down and shrugged slightly. "I'm trying not to think about it. It's so sad. I was the last one to talk to him. He called me last night and we spoke for a few minutes, but then he just hung up. Maybe it was something I said -"

"Hey, don't blame yourself. We all knew it was coming," Laura said. "He was so messed up. Actually, he's done us all a favour. Now we don't have to see his stupid face every day."

"And the class won't be brought down by his negativity," Natalya added.

Elizabeta couldn't believe her ears. "He's not dead!" she exclaimed. "He's just in the hospital. And how can you say such horrible things? He's a human being, just like the rest of us. We all have our ups and downs. We all have different facets to our personalities. You're acting as though you have no flaws and that something's wrong with him because he does. Yes, his flaws may seem to be more obvious, but that's because he's unaware of how to act around people. Social situations make him anxious. There's nothing wrong with that. It's something he can't help. Underneath it all, he's just a lonely kid who wants a friend. That's why I wanted to get to know him. I didn't want him to be lonely."

"Well, it seems he didn't want your friendship," Laura pointed out. "He tried to kill himself anyway."

"What the... No! It wasn't because of me! There were a lot of things contributing to that. But it wasn't anything to do with me." Elizabeta closed her eyes in an attempt to calm herself before she continued. "I know he liked the fact that I wanted to be his friend. He told me so. I just wish there was more I could have done to help him."

"Can't you just accept the fact that he probably didn't want your help? Considering how fucked up he was-"

"Don't say that! You don't know what was going through his mind," Elizabeta said. "The poor guy's been through a lot."

Laura squinted. "You sure do know a lot about him," she said.

"That's because I care about him." Shaking her head, Elizabeta stepped past Laura and Natalya. "I'll see you later."

. . . .

Gilbert suddenly woke up.

The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in his room.

Granted, he was in a room; it just wasn't his. It was annoying bright. The walls were a dull shade of beige, not as ugly as the walls at school, but still bad. There was strange equipment on them, but he couldn't figure out why or what it was for. There was a digital clock on the wall to his right. However, his vision was too blurry for him to make out what time it was.

Then he realized that he was in a bed, but something didn't feel right. He figured out quite quickly what it was: his wrists were tied to the sides of the bed. He struggled to free them, but his attempts were futile. It wasn't going to work.

Frustrated and immensely confused as to why he was strapped to a bed in a strange room, Gilbert decided to yell. Of course he didn't account for the fact that his throat was extremely dry, so his yell sounded more like a squawk. Growing increasingly irritated, he flailed as best he could and continued to try and yell.

His struggles were finally acknowledged when the room's door slid open. Unfortunately, the people who came in were not the ones he wanted to see.

A doctor entered, followed by his father and brother. _At least the bitch isn't here._ His father looked pissed, while Ludwig just had a worried expression on his face. The doctor approached the bed, and much to Gilbert's dismay, tightened the restraints around his wrists. Gilbert let out an annoyed noise, but didn't say anything.

Ludwig was the first to speak. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Gilbert frowned slightly. "What?" His voice was hoarse, and he realized that his throat was very sore.

"You don't remember last night? You really scared me," Ludwig said softly. "I honestly thought you were going to die."

At first Gilbert wasn't sure what Ludwig was talking about. Then the events of the previous night came back to him.

_That's right, last night was terrible. I think I called Elizabeta at some point. Didn't I hang up on her? Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did. Then I went back to my room... I had a belt, right? And then..._

The last thing he remembered was gasping for breath before everything went dark.

"Um..." Gilbert nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm fine. I guess. I mean, I'm not too thrilled about being tied to a hospital bed."

"It's so you don't cause any harm to yourself or others," the doctor explained. "Your father actually requested it."

"Oh, really?" Gilbert flashed an angry look at his father, but shrank back slightly when he saw his father's face.

"It's better for you this way," his father said. "Now you won't do anything stupid."

"But -"

"Be quiet."

"You'll stay here for three days, and then we'll see how you're doing. If your father thinks you still need to be under observation, you'll stay here for a while longer. Okay?" the doctor said.

Gilbert muttered several curses under his breath, but then he nodded. "Yeah, sure." He stayed silent for a few more minutes, and by that time, his father, the doctor, and eventually Ludwig left the room.

_This isn't fair. I shouldn't be restrained like I'm some kind of animal. I'm not crazy. I swear I'm not._

He wasn't going to be stuck here forever. He knew he'd find a way out.

**_A/N:_**** Yay, Chapter 16. I remember when I first started writing this. I never knew there were going to be so many chapters! (And there's still a TON to come)**

**Yes, some psychiatric patients are restrained. I've been in the psych ward; I've seen it.**

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	17. Brave (Sara Bareilles)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Yay, quicker update!**

Gilbert was bored out of his mind.

It was strange. He was used to being by himself, but there was something about being alone in a hospital room that he didn't like. Maybe it was because he was strapped to the bed. Maybe it was because doctors kept coming in and asking him questions. It was all just very odd.

He realized that he'd been staring at the clock for seven minutes. It was near midnight and, from what he could tell, it was also shift change. That meant that there would be more doctors and nurses in the halls, as well as patients being transferred, so theoretically he could blend right in and then find a way out of the hospital. The question was, how would he get out of this room?

He remembered that earlier he had been told that the closest washroom was down the hall. Then he was struck with a brilliant idea. If he could convince someone to let him go, then maybe he'd be able to sneak out. Yes, that was a great plan. _You are a genius._

Taking a breath, Gilbert shouted, "I have to go to the washroom! Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

There was no response for quite some time. Just as he was about to call out again, the door slid open and a young nurse entered the room. "Did you want something?" she asked.

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "No, I just felt like shouting," he said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice. He didn't give the nurse a chance to respond, as he immediately added, "I actually really have to use the washroom. Will you let me go?"

The nurse frowned slightly. "I'm not sure about that -"

"Please? I'll be quiet for the rest of the night." Gilbert tried his hardest to look like he was telling the truth.

"Well..." After a pause, the nurse nodded and made her way to the side of the bed. She was about to undo Gilbert's restraints when she looked at him suspiciously. "Can I be sure that you won't try and escape?" she asked.

Gilbert nodded several times. "I'll be good," he said. "I promise."

"All right, good." The nurse slowly released his left wrist. "Don't move until I say so," she ordered as she undid the rest of the restraints. Gilbert remained perfectly still the whole time, only moving once he heard, "Okay, you can sit up now. But don't make any sudden movements."

"Gotcha." Gilbert sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, relishing the sensation of being able to move again. It was wonderful. He stretched his arms over his head and wiggled his toes, just to make sure this was real. And it was. It was glorious.

It took him a few minutes to notice that there was a pair of slippers on the floor. He quickly put them on and stood up, realizing that he was extremely dizzy. Taking a second to steady himself, Gilbert took a deep breath and looked at the nurse. "Okay, I'm ready."

The nurse didn't reply, and instead grabbed Gilbert's arm and led him out of the room and down the hall. Gilbert went along quietly, trying to act calm and harmless. But of course, he was looking around for an escape route and the perfect chance to make a break for it. He knew he had to be patient. If he attempted anything too soon, he'd get in trouble.

Before long, they were at the washrooms. "Wait here," the nurse said. "I'm going to get a male attendant to go in with you to make sure you don't get up to no good. Do not move from this spot."

"Of course I won't!" Gilbert pretended that the comment had offended him. "I'll stay here."

"You'd better," the nurse replied. After giving him a warning look, she let go of his arm and headed off in another direction.

Gilbert waited until she was completely out of sight before he darted away, hurrying down another hall and into a nearby stairwell. Being the idiot he was, he slipped and nearly fell down the stairs. Luckily he caught himself before he broke his neck and made sure he was careful descending the stairs. However, the fact that he was still very dizzy wasn't helping in the least, and he had to stop several times to wait for the episodes to pass. _Come on, you're so close to freedom. Don't pass out now._ Finally he was able to fully regain his balance, and he kept going.

Naturally, being so caught up in his escape plan had made him forget about what the weather was like. As soon as he stepped outside, he was hit with a blast of cold wind and a shower of raindrops. On top of that, it was also quite dark. He then realized that he had no clue where he was planning on going. After less than a minute of decision-making, he came up with the best place: Elizabeta's house. She probably wouldn't mind him randomly showing up in the middle of the night demanding a place to stay. It was perfect.

And then he realized he didn't know how to get to her house from the hospital. Dammit.

Luck had never really been on his side, but he decided to try it anyway. He set off in a random direction.

. . . .

Elizabeta was roused from a rather deep sleep by a loud crashing sound against her window. This concerned her. But maybe, seeing as it was still raining, it was just a branch or something hitting the side of the house. She wasn't sure. She'd just been sleeping. Her brain wasn't really up to making logical conclusions.

Then there was another crashing sound, followed by muffled cursing. Elizabeta sat up, clutching her comforter to her chest. Now she was scared. _Oh my God, is someone trying to break in? Is someone going to kill me? No, then they wouldn't be trying my window. I'm on the second floor._ This was not how she had expected to be woken in the middle of the night. Not by something as strange and random as crashing against her window.

The cursing ceased, and slowly Elizabeta began to relax. _Okay, they're going away. Now sleeping is a yes._

All of a sudden, she heard fists pounding on the front door. She let out the tiniest of squeaks and jumped out of bed, grabbing the closest object in case she needed to defend herself. The object she grabbed happened to be her curling iron, which was completely useless, but it was better than nothing. Then she left her room and crept down the stairs. _Why isn't Mom waking up? Does she not hear this?_

The pounding got louder. Elizabeta's fingers tightened around the curling iron as she advanced toward the door. _This is it. Please don't be a crazed murderer._ As quietly as possible, she unlocked the door and raised her curling iron, quickly pulling the door open. She prepared to strike-

"Hey, please don't hit me! I'm sorry!"

Elizabeta paused. She knew that voice... Flipping on the porch light, she saw, standing in front of her, a soaking wet, shivering Gilbert. His hands were raised above his head, defending himself from Elizabeta's attack.

"Gilbert? What the...? Why are you here?" Elizabeta asked in disbelief. She lowered her curling iron and stared at him.

"What? Oh." Dropping his arms to his sides, Gilbert looked at her and smiled. "I'm here to stay with you."

_**A/N:**_** Are you happy for a quicker update? ;)**

**Yes, Gilbert was throwing stones at Elizabeta's window. Naturally he thought that would work.**

**I would just like to say how thankful I am for the kind reviews. They make me super happy (like the other day I had just woken up and checked my phone, and I had a new review and I was giggly for the rest of the day). I appreciate the time you take to make a dork like me squeal with delight. That sounded creepy, didn't it? I'll shut up now.**


	18. Suddenly I See (KT Tunstall)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Another quick-ish update!**

"So that's why I decided to come here," Gilbert said. He was sitting in Elizabeta's living room with Elizabeta and her mother, happily eating a sandwich that Ms. Héderváry had made him. It was now around one o'clock in the morning, and just like he had hoped, Elizabeta had been happy to see him. In fact, after she realized it was him at the door, she had dropped her curling iron and hugged him before letting him in and waking her mother. Gilbert was so happy that they cared.

"How did you find your way here?" Elizabeta asked. "It's the middle of the night and you've only been to our house once."

Gilbert shrugged. "I managed." He opted to not tell them that he'd gotten lost several times and nearly got hit by a car at one point.

"Well, we're just glad you're all right," Ms. Héderváry said with a relieved smile. "Elizabeta was worried sick about you."

"_Mom!_" Elizabeta exclaimed. Then she looked at Gilbert and nodded. "Yeah, I was worried about you. I mean, the only thing I knew was that you were in the hospital, so of course I panicked and thought that maybe you weren't okay and that really scared me because I didn't want anything to happen to you -" Here she broke off and burst into tears. "I was so scared. Don't _ever_ do that to me again!"

"I'm sorry," Gilbert said quietly. He hadn't expected her to cry. Now he felt bad. "I never meant for you to get upset. I'm sorry."

Elizabeta raised her eyes to Gilbert's and smiled softly. "It's okay. You're safe now. Isn't that the only thing that matters?" Getting up from her spot on the couch, she approached Gilbert and hugged him gently. Gilbert returned the hug almost right away. It felt so nice to be wanted. Could he just freeze this moment and keep it forever? He was all too aware that good things didn't last long, so he always made sure to appreciate them. _Man, Elizabeta gives really good hugs. She should be a professional hug-giver. Does that kind of thing exist? It should. It would be really useful._

Ms. Héderváry's came as a surprise: "You two are so cute."

Both Gilbert and Elizabeta froze when they heard her. Gilbert wasn't quite sure how to react, while Elizabeta spun around to face her mother and cried, "N-no, we're not! We're not 'cute'! We're just friends! D-definitely not cute." She paused for a millisecond. "I'm going back to bed! It's late and I'm tired. Uh, good night!" With an awkward nod, she fled the room. Gilbert heard her footsteps ascending the stairs.

Unsure of what to do now that she was gone, Gilbert looked down at his feet. He'd never been one for making conversation, so he kept quiet. Maybe if he didn't say anything, then Ms. Héderváry wouldn't try and start talking to him. Not that he didn't want to talk to her. He wouldn't have minded if he was more awake, but he was tired and just wanted to sleep.

For once, luck was on his side, as Ms. Héderváry said, "You must be tired. Do you want to go to sleep?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yes, actually," he replied. "Should I stay down here?"

"If you'd like to. But I'm sure Elizabeta wouldn't mind if you stayed in her room again."

"Okay, I'll go see what she wants." Gilbert stood up and added, "Thanks again for letting me stay." Then he headed upstairs.

It was so nice being in a place where he wasn't constantly being judged. This was what a home was supposed to feel like: no fighting, no tension, and kind words. Oh, and food. Food was very important. But the other things were just as important. Hopefully it wouldn't be taken away from him, just like everything else in his life.

When he got to the second floor, Gilbert noticed that Elizabeta's door was closed. For a moment he was unsure of what to do. He didn't exactly want to bother her if she was sleeping, but he didn't want to go back downstairs, either. He deliberated on what he was going to do for quite some time. Finally he came up with a solution.

He knocked on the door.

After a few seconds, the door slowly opened slightly, and Elizabeta peeked out. When she saw it was Gilbert, she opened the door all the way. "Would you like something?" she asked.

"I've come to sleep with you," Gilbert announced. Then he realized how that had sounded, and he immediately backtracked. "N-no, not like that! I-I mean sleep here, in your room. On the floor. Not in your bed. That would be weird." He could feel his cheeks burning.

Elizabeta laughed softly. "Of course, come in." She left her door open and went back to her bed. Just like last time, she set a pillow down on the floor for him.

Gilbert slowly entered the room and pondered whether or not to close the door. If he did, it might come across as creepy. If he didn't, Elizabeta might get mad at him for leaving it open. He had no idea what to do.

"You can close the door, you know," Elizabeta said, as if she could read his mind. "My mom knows we'll just be sleeping."

"Okay." Gilbert slowly closed the door and made his way over to the pillow on the floor. "Uh, do you have an extra blanket, by any chance?" he asked.

Elizabeta shook her head. "No, sorry... But you can have mine. I don't mind."

"No, that's yours. I don't want to take it from you," Gilbert said. "You keep it. I'll be fine." With a sigh, he sank to the floor with a quiet thud and laid his head on the pillow, facing away from Elizabeta. He didn't need a blanket. He was tougher than that.

He heard a sigh from Elizabeta, followed by the sound of heavy fabric hitting the ground. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Elizabeta's blanket crumpled on the floor behind him. He looked at it curiously, then regarded Elizabeta with the same inquiring face.

Elizabeta shrugged. "Take it. I don't need it," she said with a smile.

Gilbert tried to come up with a response, but he was so tired and the blanket looked so nice and warm... After another minute of just staring at it, he grabbed it and pulled it around himself. _So cozy._

"Good night," Elizabeta said, but Gilbert was too caught up in the joy of having a blanket to pay attention. By the time he processed that she had said something, Elizabeta had fallen asleep.

Everything was all right in the world. Gilbert was safe and happy. He never wanted to leave this place.

**_A/N:_**** I love you guys for sticking with this story for all this time. Things will be brightening up a bit from here on out.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	19. One Step at a Time (Jordin Sparks)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**There's quite a bit of fluff in this. Just warning you so you don't die from diabetes.**

**Just so you know, the italics in the first part are quotes from other people. It'll make sense as you go.**

Everything was dark and cold. He could barely see as he stumbled along, desperate to find some kind of light source. His hands groped around and felt a wall; this place wasn't just an empty void, then. "Hello?" he called out.

There was no response.

For quite some time he walked along the wall, searching for an exit of sorts. Finally, his hand found what felt like a doorknob, and he turned it. It took him a few tries, but eventually the door swung open. He was suddenly blinded by a bright light and he stepped back.

Once he overcame the temporary blindness, he entered the room. At first, it was simply white. Then, slowly but surely, a red puddle formed in front of him. He knelt down and reached out to touch it, but immediately drew his hand back. It was blood. Real, actual blood. "What the...?"

_You're such a loser._

He looked up. "Who's there?" he asked. But no one was around. It was just blank space.

_Why don't you just give up already? It's not like anyone will miss you._

A sudden chill filled the room, and more blood puddles appeared all around him. The walls seemed to be closing in, crushing him, suffocating him.

_You'll never amount to anything._

_You're worthless, you hear me? Worthless!_

_If it weren't for you, maybe she'd still be alive._

His head was spinning. The voices grew louder and louder, mixing together and distorting. The room began to shake violently.

_No one will ever love you._

_You're a waste of space._

_Useless piece of shit._

_Once you're dead, everything will be okay. So go on. We won't miss you._

Something wrapped around his throat, and he frantically thrashed about, trying to get free, but to no avail. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. His throat was being crushed; he couldn't breathe. Then everything went black.

. . . .

Elizabeta was woken by the sound of screaming. Quickly sitting up, she looked over the side of her bed and saw Gilbert flailing about in his sleep. Elizabeta leaped out of bed and dropped to her knees at Gilbert's side, placing her hands on his shoulders in an attempt to stop his movements. "Gilbert, wake up!" she cried. Then she shook him, trying to rouse him from his slumber. "You're just dreaming! Wake up, please!"

Eventually her efforts worked, and Gilbert's eyes snapped open. They were filled with absolute fear. For a split second he seemed confused. Then his face crumpled and he began to cry. Slowly, he sat up and reached out his arms, seeking comfort and protection.

With a gentle smile, Elizabeta pulled Gilbert into a hug. "It's okay," she said softly.

Gilbert rested his head on Elizabeta's shoulder, his body trembling slightly. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he clung to her, as if he was afraid she would leave. But Elizabeta wouldn't leave him. She knew that he just needed someone who cared.

The door suddenly opened, and Elizabeta looked up to see her mother peering in. _She must have heard the screaming._ "It's okay," she said in a low voice, not wanting to startle Gilbert. "He just had a bad dream." Her mother nodded, and with a sympathetic look at Gilbert, stepped back and closed the door. Elizabeta heard her footsteps fading away.

"Thank you."

Elizabeta was surprised when Gilbert spoke. "Why are you thanking me?" she asked.

"For a lot of things. But mostly for being here for me. You care," Gilbert said softly. "You saved me from my nightmare, and you didn't yell at me."

"Why would I yell at you? You can't help having nightmares," Elizabeta said.

There was a slight pause. Then Gilbert murmured, "My father would always come into my room and yell at me when I'd wake up screaming and crying from nightmares. Whenever I tried to apologize, he hit me and told me not to talk back." He laughed softly. "For all these years, I thought I'd be stuck getting in trouble for having bad dreams. But then I met you. You've helped me realize that not everyone is bad. You have a good heart. Does that sound cheesy? It felt cheesy. But you get what I mean."

"Yeah... I do." Elizabeta removed Gilbert's arms from her waist and gently held his hands. "I'm so sorry for everything you've been through. I know I can't fix the past, but I can at least try and make your present and future better. You believe me, don't you?" she said.

Gilbert nodded. "I do."

"Good. Now I'm going downstairs to help Mom with breakfast," Elizabeta announced as she stood up. "You get cleaned up. There's an old sweatshirt in my closet if you want something warm to wear. The first floor gets pretty cold in the morning." With a smile, she left the room and descended the stairs, heading to the kitchen.

Mrs. Héderváry was busy mixing pancake batter in a bowl. She looked up when she heard Elizabeta trip and crash into the wall. "Are you okay, Erzsi?" she asked with a small laugh.

Elizabeta groaned softly and shook her head. "I just face-planted into a wall. How do you think I feel?" She rubbed her nose. "That _hurt_..."

"You goof," Mrs. Héderváry said. She was quiet for a few minutes. Then she asked, "You said Gilbert had a bad dream? Did he say what it was about?"

"No. But it seems like he's pretty prone to nightmares," Elizabeta mused. "He did tell me that his father used to hit him when he had bad dreams. Can you believe that? No child deserves to be punished for something they can't help."

Mrs. Héderváry was on the verge of replying, but she stopped and gestured for Elizabeta to turn around. Confused, Elizabeta did - and tried to suppress a giggle.

Gilbert was standing behind her, wearing the sweatshirt Elizabeta had mentioned. Unfortunately, it didn't fit him as well as either would have liked. It was much too tight, and the sleeves ended a few inches above his wrists. Gilbert had a look of intense dissatisfaction on his face.

Elizabeta smiled lightly and said, "You know, you don't look that bad... It's kind of endearing, you know?"

"I look like an idiot," Gilbert muttered.

"I guess we'll have to take you shopping for some real clothes today, Gilbert," Mrs. Héderváry suggested.

Gilbert's eyes widened. "Sh-shopping?"

_**A/N:**_** The mental image of Gilbert wearing Elizabeta's sweatshirt just cracks me up. Just try to imagine it.**

**Fluff... Fluff is fun. I'll try to keep it cute and light-hearted for as long as I can. Hope you enjoyed ;)**


	20. Carry On (fun)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**And after the very long hiatus, I am back with this wonderfully long chapter!**

Shopping had always been something that Elizabeta enjoyed. She liked browsing through cute things and trying on pretty clothes. Considering she'd gone to schools that required uniforms all her life, the only time she could wear different clothes were on days off and weekends. Nevertheless, she always made the effort to look nice when she went out in public, even if it was just a quick run to the drugstore. "I've never met anyone who doesn't like shopping," she had said once.

Then she met Gilbert.

It had been a bit of a struggle to get him into the car after the mention of shopping. He tried to convince Elizabeta that no, he didn't need to get new clothes. Finally, after some persuasion, Gilbert stopped putting up a fight and reluctantly entered the car.

Elizabeta laughed slightly when she glanced in the rear-view mirror to look at Gilbert. He had realized that going out in public could possibly mean running into someone from school, so he demanded a disguise. However, seeing as there wasn't too much in the house that could be used as a makeshift disguise, he had to improvise using an over-sized coat, floppy hat, and sunglasses. He looked like a complete dork.

"Gilbert, you don't have to wear that get-up," Ms. Héderváry said. "I seriously doubt you'll see anyone you know."

"You never know. It's better to be safe than sorry," Gilbert replied.

Ms. Héderváry glanced at Elizabeta, who shook her head and shrugged. The rest of the car ride was silent, save for the occasional cough from Gilbert. When they finally arrived at the mall, Ms. Héderváry said, "You kids go wherever you like. Just stick together, and don't talk to people you don't know. Oh, and make sure you eat at some point -"

"Mom, we'll be fine," Elizabeta interjected. "Trust me." Then she turned in her seat to look at Gilbert. "If you agree to try stuff on, I'll buy you lunch. Deal?"

Gilbert perked up at the prospect of food, and he nodded eagerly. "Deal," he said.

"Be safe," Mrs. Héderváry called as the kids got out of the car. Elizabeta took Gilbert's hand, and they both ran inside to get out of the rain. Once they made it indoors, Elizabeta didn't even give Gilbert a chance to catch his breath before she dragged him into a nearby store.

"We need to get you practical things since winter's coming soon," Elizabeta said, rifling through a rack of clothes. "Ooh, we also have to get stuff for school. White shirts, ties, you know, like that." She grabbed several shirts and tossed them at Gilbert and said, "Go try these on, and I'll find you some more things."

"I... Okay, sure," Gilbert said with a shrug, wandering off in the direction of the change rooms.

As Elizabeta continued searching the store for clothes, she heard someone calling out to her: "Excuse me, you're Elizabeta Héderváry, right?" Elizabeta spun around.

A girl was standing near one of the clothing racks. She had neatly curled dark pigtails and a small smile on her face. She also looked vaguely familiar. "You are Elizabeta, aren't you?" the girl asked. "In Mr. Vargas' homeroom class?"

Elizabeta nodded. "Yeah, I am. And you are...?"

"Oh, silly me! I'm Michelle. Michelle Kent," the girl said. "I sit behind Natalya."

"Right. I've seen you. Um..." Elizabeta trailed off. She had no clue why this Michelle girl was talking to her, and she felt a little strange being seen holding guy clothes. "Why did you feel the need to approach me?" she asked, trying not to sound stupid.

Michelle's smile widened. "I'm having a little party at my place next Saturday, and I was wondering if you'd like to come!" she said.

"A...party?"

"Yeah! Everyone from our grade is coming, plus some older kids I know," Michelle explained. "It'll be fun. So...you want to come? The more the merrier!"

Elizabeta thought for a moment. "Well, it sounds like it could be fun..." She nodded. "Sure, I'll come."

"Great. That is great." Michelle pulled a small slip of paper from her pocket and held it out. "This has my address and number. Just text me if you have any questions, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for inviting me," Elizabeta said.

"No problem. See you later." With a wink and a wave, Michelle turned and walked away.

Elizabeta stuffed the paper in her pocket and made her way to the change rooms, calling, "Gilbert, where are you? I have more things for you to try on!"

She heard a response from the nearest room: "I look stupid. Please don't make me try on more clothes."

"I'm sure you don't look stupid. Let me see."

"No."

"Gilbert, if you want lunch, then let me see you," Elizabeta said. "Please?"

There was a sigh, followed by a click. The door opened slowly, and Gilbert peeked out. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Now why would I laugh? That would just be mean." Elizabeta smiled softly. "So let me see?"

"Oh, all right." Slowly, Gilbert opened the door all the way. The unfortunate thing was, he did look a little stupid: The shirt was buttoned wrong and the collar was turned up. He looked rather uncomfortable.

Elizabeta shook her head with a sigh. "You goof. I'll have to teach you how to properly button a shirt."

"It's a lot harder than it looks," Gilbert muttered.

"Don't worry, you'll figure it out," Elizabeta said. Then she held out the other clothes she had selected. "We'll go to lunch soon. Just try these on first."

. . . .

Elizabeta learned a lot about Gilbert that afternoon.

First, he really _was_ terrible at buttoning shirts. He tried, but it was amazingly difficult for him, so Elizabeta had to do it for him. Despite all of Gilbert's complaining, he still agreed to let Elizabeta buy the clothes.

Then there was the whole "buying lunch" thing. When they first arrived at the food court, Gilbert had been in awe of all the food choices. Elizabeta had told him that he could get whatever he wanted. Gilbert was delighted, but he had no idea how to order for himself. So Elizabeta had to order for him.

It had been a rather tiring day, having to do everything for Gilbert. But Elizabeta hadn't minded too much. She had actually very much enjoyed spending the day with him. She just wished he could be a little more independent.

At present Elizabeta was in her room getting ready for bed. As she pulled her hair to the side and began to braid it, she thought about the party invitation she had received. She'd never been to a party before (well, she had attended several birthday parties when she was young, but they didn't really count), and she kind of wanted to go. Michelle seemed like a decent, well-rounded girl. Would it really be that bad to take a risk and meet new people? "I think I'll give it a shot," she thought aloud.

"Give what a shot?"

Elizabeta looked up. Gilbert was leaning against the door frame, munching on an apple. He seemed to be waiting for an answer.

"Oh... Uh, nothing." She didn't exactly want to mention the party to Gilbert. He probably wouldn't want her to go, and even if she offered to bring him along he'd more than likely refuse. But he was really her best chance at learning more about Michelle. So, as casually as possible, she asked, "What can you tell me about Michelle Kent?"

Gilbert looked a little surprised by her question, but he still gave her an answer. "She's kind of class president, I guess. And she's been top of the class since like elementary school. She's super smart. She's probably the one person I don't want to punch. Besides you, of course. She has a huge family and I think she speaks like a million languages." He shrugged. "She's not too bad, I suppose."

"Okay, thanks," Elizabeta said. "You've helped a lot."

"Wait. Why do you want to know about her?"

Elizabeta opened her mouth to speak, but wasn't entirely sure what to say. So she just shook her head and shrugged slightly. "No reason."

"Come on, tell me!" Gilbert walked over to Elizabeta's bed and sat down beside her. "Please? I want to know."

"Well, it's just..." Elizabeta chewed on her lip before she continued. "I kind of ran into her at the mall today and she introduced herself and then invited me to this party she's hosting next weekend. And I was thinking of going."

"Were you thinking of taking me?"

"I didn't think you wanted to come, to be honest," Elizabeta said. "You're the one who told me you don't like socializing. I mean, I'm pretty sure it'll just be a bunch of teenagers sitting around doing nothing. Does that kind of thing interest you?"

"Nope. But I'd go so I could hang out with you." With a small shrug, Gilbert went on, "You're cool. You seem like you'd have a lot of fun being around other people. So you do what you want. I don't have to come. I'll just stay here, I guess."

"Gilbert." Elizabeta reached over and gently took his hand in hers. "I really would like you to come to the party with me. It could be fun. But it's entirely your choice."

"Okay... I'll think about it," Gilbert said softly.

Elizabeta offered a sweet smile. "All right. Now finish that apple and start getting ready for bed. It's getting late."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." There was the smallest bit of sarcasm in his voice, but by now Elizabeta felt that was just his default voice. She remained quiet as Gilbert got up from the bed and left the room.

_He really is a sweet guy. I wish more people could understand that. I've never met anyone like him before. Maybe no one else sees it, but I know that he just wants love and approval._

She was so convinced that she just wanted to be his friend. Nothing more. But then another thought entered her mind.

_Wait... Is it possible that...? No, it can't be. That's just ridiculous. No. It's not possible. Right?_

_I'm not actually falling for him, am I?_

_**A/N: **_**Chapter 20. Holy crap. Did not expect it to get this far.**

**Michelle Kent - Seychelles (thanks to ChibiPandaYuki for suggesting I add her!)**

**I'm terribly sorry that I've taken forever to update. Life has just been really difficult recently, which is probably why I've been writing all this cutesy fluff (to distract myself, I guess). I'm kind of in the midst of an emotional crisis and this story is one of the few things keeping me (mostly) sane at the moment. I'm writing this story for you.**


	21. Chasing Cars (Snow Patrol)

**Author: MercurialLily  
****Fandom: Hetalia  
****Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
****Rating: T  
****Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**_A/N:_ I have finally returned! Words cannot express how sorry I am for leaving you guys hanging. Lots of stuff has happened, but I'll cut it short here. Please enjoy!**

**This is a slight mention of domestic abuse near the end. Just disclaimer.**

"Once again, a sixteen-year-old boy is missing. His name is Gilbert Beilschmidt. He is described as being approximately five feet ten inches tall, one hundred forty pounds, with white hair and red eyes. He was last seen at Meadowbrook General Hospital two days ago. He is reported to be suffering from mental illness. If you see him or have any information regarding his disappearance, please call the hotline you see on your screen or the police."

Elizabeta glanced up at the TV. "They're talking about you again."

"Whatever," Gilbert responded from his spot at the couch beside her. He was flipping through a magazine. "It's not as if I'm a bank robber or something like that. I'm not on the run. I didn't do anything wrong."

"Well, you did break out of the hospital -"

"Did not. I walked out. There was no breaking involved."

"Still.

"This is a small town. Hardly anything ever happens." Gilbert gestured to the TV. "That's why my 'disappearance' is such a big deal."

"Are they running that segment again?" Elizabeta's mother asked as she entered the room.

"Yep," Elizabeta replied. "Slow news day."

Ms. Héderváry shook her head. "I have half a mind to go down to the police station and tell them what's really going on," she said. "They deserve to know."

"Please don't do that," Gilbert said.

"Don't worry. I'd simply tell them that you're much safer here than you are at your place. I'm sure they'd understand."

"Are you really sure you should do that, Mom?" Elizabeta asked. "What if you get in trouble?"

"I won't, because it's not a crime. You know that it's commonplace for a child in a potentially dangerous situation to be taken somewhere safe. A friend of mine works in the public service sector. She told me that."

"Really?" Gilbert sounded hopeful. "They can't make me go back?"

Ms. Héderváry smiled. "It would be against their better judgment," she said. "Now how about you two get out of the house? It's not raining anymore and I don't think it's very good for you to be cooped up in here all day." She waved her hand. "Go on! Get some fresh air."

"All right, sure," Elizabeta said as she stood up. "What are you going to do, Mom?"

"Likely go down to the station and get this whole situation sorted out. It's better to do it now than to wait," Ms. Héderváry replied. "I promise that it'll be a good outcome."

Elizabeta looked at Gilbert, who had tossed the magazine aside. "How about you show me around town?" she asked.

Gilbert shrugged. "Sure. There's not much to see, but sure."

"You two be safe," Ms. Héderváry advised.

"We will, Mom," Elizabeta said. "And good luck at the station."

. . . . .

Although it had stopped raining that morning, the ground was still a bit damp and there was a slight chill in the air. Well, it was November. It wasn't too surprising that it was cold. The sun was just barely peeking out from behind the clouds.

Elizabeta hadn't had much of a chance to explore the town yet. She hadn't been here very long and only knew where the basics were. She wanted to know more.

Gilbert seemed bored as they walked down the street. He was quiet, kicking the occasional stone, his hands in his pockets. When Elizabeta tried to talk to him or ask him questions, he just mumbled in response.

At some point they passed by a cemetary, and Elizabeta noticed a playground nearby. "Isn't that a little creepy?" she wondered. "Having a playground right next to a cemetary?"

Gilbert finally gave her a proper answer. "It's always been like that. Kids tell each other ghost stories and dare each other to go into the graveyard at night and walk around. This past Halloween, some kid claimed he actually saw a ghost."

"Do you think he did?"

But Gilbert gave no reply as he pushed open the iron-wrought gate and entered the cemetary. Elizabeta followed him, curious. She felt slightly uncomfortable walking through the rows of gravestones. She wasn't scared of ghosts - she was still on the fence about whether or not they existed, though - but she just didn't like the eerie feeling she got in this place.

Gilbert finally stopped in front of a gravestone near the far corner of the cemetary and knelt down. Elizabeta wondered why until she got closer and saw the name of the person buried there: Karina Beilschmidt. This was his mother's grave. Elizabeta noted that, according to the dates, she had died a few days before her thirty-first birthday.

"I come here a lot," Gilbert was saying quietly. "Sometimes I don't know where else to go." He reached out a hand and touched the engraving. Then he looked up at Elizabeta. "I didn't even know what her name was until she died. My father never called her by name. I never knew anyone from her side of the family, so I didn't hear it from them. It's strange, isn't it?"

"I think it's a very beautiful name," Elizabeta said gently.

"Yeah? I think so too. It suited her. She was pretty." Gilbert's face turned into a morose smile. "I think about her every day. I wonder if things would be different if she was still around. Probably not, though. But...I think she'd be happy to know that I have you as a friend."

Elizabeta touched Gilbert's shoulder. "I'm sure she'd be proud of you. She's probably smiling up there in heaven right now."

"You think? I don't believe in all that heaven or God stuff," Gilbert said, standing up. "If it was real, things would be better."

"Things _are_ better now," Elizabeta murmured. "Don't you think? I'm not telling you to believe in God or anything like that, you know. I just want you to know that things have changed."

"Mmm." Gilbert nodded slowly. "I guess you're right."

"I know I'm right. Can we go now? I'm a...little uncomfortable here."

"Fine." With a final look at his mother's grave, Gilbert turned to leave. Elizabeta quietly went after him. Once they stepped out of the cemetary, Gilbert closed the gate. He didn't move for some time, gazing into the cemetary. Elizabeta was going to ask him if anything was wrong, and as she glanced around while deciding what to say, she noticed a swing set at the edge of the playground. Leaving Gilbert at the gate, Elizabeta went over to the swings and climbed onto the seat of one, holding the chains for support. She gently swung back and forth, then decided to stand up on the swing. She felt tall and free, the wind blowing through her hair. Aside from her, the playground was empty. Gilbert was watching her from the sidewalk. He came over to her about a minute later. Elizabeta smiled as she kept swinging.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew, and her foot slid from the swing. She pitched forward, letting out a shriek. Her hands slipped from the chains. She was overwhelmed with the sensation that she was falling.

But instead of hitting the ground, she fell into Gilbert, who had moved closer to the swing set. Unfortunately, Elizabeta had fallen too heavily, so they both toppled over. Neither moved for a few minutes. Eventually, Elizabeta got to her feet and moved a bit away. "I am...so sorry about that," she said. "I didn't mean to fall on you."

"I know. It's fine." Gilbert slowly got up. "The ground's soft, so it didn't hurt that much."

Elizabeta looked down, and then said, "Do you want to start heading back? I think we got enough fresh air for the day."

"Yeah, sure." The two of them left the playground and began walking back to the house.

They walked in silence for a short while. Elizabeta didn't like this and decided to speak: "So what was your mom like?"

"Do I have to answer?" Gilbert asked without looking at her.

"No, of course not. Only if you want to."

"Okay." More silence. "I don't really know what to say about her. She was just...sad all the time, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she was always sad. She cried a lot. Well, at least I think she did. Her eyes were always red and her voice was shaky, but whenever I asked her if she was okay, she always said that she was fine. I guess I just never believed that. If she was fine, why did she seem upset?" Gilbert paused. "She was pretty skittish, too. You know, scared of every little sound. And she always looked tired. Sometimes she'd get a little mean, but she'd apologize right away. She and my dad fought a lot. They'd yell at each other for years. Then she'd come into my room and apologize."

Elizabeta nodded mutely and continued listening.

"I remember one time she got hurt really bad and had to go to the hospital for a couple of days. She fell down the stairs at home and broke some of her ribs. I think she might've sprained her wrist, too. I forget how old I was. Seven, maybe. When she finally came home, she fell again and got a concussion. I was at school when that happened. She got hurt a lot. My dad just said it was because she was clumsy. I hated it when she got hurt. It always made me sad."

"Your poor mother," Elizabeta said.

"Yeah." Gilbert looked up at the cloudy sky. "Sometimes I wonder if she found peace in dying. Was she able to escape whatever pain she was feeling?"

"I'm sure she did. No one does something as...drastic and permanent as that for no reason. Whatever she was feeling must have just been too much to bear." Elizaeta turned to look at Gilbert. "It's good that you're talking about this. You're getting it out of your system."

"Yeah. I just..." Gilbert scratched his head. He made a face and said, "I was just thinking about the last thing she said to me."

"Which was...?"

"It was the first day back to school. See, I've never liked school and didn't want to go. I told her as much. But she didn't scold me or anything. She just gave me a hug and said, 'Be strong. Don't be afraid. Things will get very hard, I know, but keep pushing ahead. Go on. You have nothing to fear.' At the time, I thought she was talking about school, but now...I think she was actually talking about life. Telling me not to be afraid. Telling me to be brave. I think maybe she didn't want me to end up like her."

Elizabeta looked down. "Can I say something?" she asked.

"Yeah, go for it."

"Well...and this might sound dumb, okay?" Elizabeta twisted her tongue around in her mouth as she planned out the words in her mind. "It could just be a huge coincidence that I met you when you were going through a really tough time. But maybe there was some force guiding me to you. You know -"

"What, like a guardian angel?" Gilbert laughed. "I told you, I don't believe in that sort of stuff. If anything, I have a guardian devil." Then his expression grew serious. "Who knows, maybe you're right. We can never really know why things happen."

Elizabeta nodded. "You're right. Now come on, let's go home. It's getting colder." With a smile, she took Gilbert's hand, and they kept on going.

The whole time they were out, neither of them ever noticed the figure crouching in the bushes taking pictures of them.

. . . . .

It was now around two in the morning. Gilbert, unable to sleep, was lying on the floor of Elizabeta's room, gazing up at the ceiling. Elizabeta had fallen asleep a long time ago.

They had gotten home from their walk shortly before Elizabeta's mother returned from downtown. She explained what had happened at the police station: Apparently, the hospital had filed the missing report, not Gilbert's family. Ms. Héderváry had told the desk sergeant that Gilbert was much safer with her than with his own family. She asked that the report be taken down. After some convincing, the desk sergeant spoke with a superior, who agreed to remove the report from circulation.

Of course, both kids were thrilled with this news. No more reports on the television, no more fear of potentially being found out. Everyhing would be all right.

Gilbert sat up. His eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness of the room. Aside from Elizabeta's soft breathing, everything was quiet. It was nice and peaceful.

Gilbert thought about his mother. What he had told Elizabeta had been true, but he hadn't told her everything. He hadn't said that his mother had often come into his room at night and cried. He hadn't said that she'd had a bit of a drinking problem. And he hadn't said that most - if not all - of her injuries were caused by his father. After her death, Gilbert had been the one who constantly ended up in the hospital, each time explaining that there'd been some kind of accident.

There was no way he could tell Elizabeta that. It would be too much for her to hear. He'd already filled her with enough sadness. But maybe one day, he'd tell her. Maybe.

Gilbert lay back down and turned on his side. He was tired, and he yawned and closed his eyes.

But he still couldn't sleep.

**_A/N: _I made sure to make this chapter long since I felt really bad for disappearing for two years (God, has it really been that long?). Please don't hate me.**

**Who do you think was taking pictures of them? It's a secret! ;)**

**If you guys remember from Chapter 20 (previous chapter), there was a mention of a party. Wanna suggest characters to make cameos?**


	22. Give a Little Bit (Supertramp)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
**Fandom: Hetalia**  
**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist**  
**Rating: T**  
**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Yo, sorta quick update! (Considering you guys got nothing for two years until last week) Please enjoy!**

Elizabeta had decided, shortly after breakfast that morning, that she wanted to spend the day at the mall. It was still the weekend, and she felt that there was nothing to do at home. She had also decided to take the bus instead of having her mother drive her. Originally, Gilbert hadn't wanted to join her, but after coming to the conclusion that he would likely be bored out of his mind if he stayed home, he opted to come with her.

The bus ride to the mall was pleasant. There were more people than Elizabeta had expected, but she didn't mind much. Gilbert, however, had seemed slightly uncomfortable. The bus route went over a bridge, and Elizabeta had eagerly looked out the window to see the water rushing below.

Once at their destination, Elizabeta wandered aimlessly around the mall for quite some time. Gilbert had wandered off somewhere on his own. Elizabeta eventually entered the music store. She eyed a grand piano tucked into one of the corners and went over to it. She had taken piano lessons when she was younger, but hadn't played anything in years. Glancing around, she sat down on the bench and began to play _Für Elise _\- though quite a bad version of it. There were almost no other customers in the store, so she didn't feel guilty about playing the piano, no matter how horrible it was.

She heard a voice ask, "May I join you?" and she looked up, pausing in her playing.

A dark-haired boy with glasses stood to her right. His clothes were perfectly pressed, and the watch he wore on his left wrist seemed very expensive. His glasses didn't even seem prescription - they were likely just for appearance. He seemed familiar.

Elizabeta nodded and shifted over. The boy sat beside her and began playing something. He seemed content ignoring her, but Elizabeta said, "Do I know you from somewhere? You just look really familiar."

The boy glanced sideways at her. "I don't know."

"You're in my history class, aren't you? Third period, right? You sit right at the front."

No response.

"I'm Elizabeta. What's your name?"

The boy stopped playing and took off his glasses. "Roderich Edelstein," he replied in a blunt voice. He took out a handkerchief and began to clean his glasses, all the while avoiding looking at Elizabeta.

Elizabeta furrowed her brow slightly. "What was that you were playing just now?" she asked. "Beethovan?"

"Bach."

"Ah. I thought it sounded familiar."

"Hmm."

"Do you like music?"

"Hmm."

"Do you play any other instruments?"

"Violin."

This Roderich boy was really difficult to talk to. It wasn't that he was shy; after all, he'd been the one to approach her. He acted aloof, as though he thought he was better than she was. Granted, she was a pretty bad pianist. Either way, it didn't seem worth the effort to try and advance the conversation.

Roderich put his glasses back on and turned to Elizabeta. "Do you play anything other than piano?" he inquired.

"Oh, uh..." Elizabeta shook her head. "Not really. I can kind of play guitar, but I'm not that good. I'm not even good at piano. But I like to sing."

"What sorts of things do you like to sing?"

"Anything, really. But if I had to pick a favourite..." With a shy smile, Elizabeta continued, "It's a little dorky, but I love musical theatre. So I guess I'd say I sing a lot of show tunes. But I also like rock."

"An eclectic taste," Roderich remarked.

"Yeah. That's what my mom says, too."

Roderich turned back to the piano and quickly played a scale. Then he said, "Give me your hand."

"What?" Elizabeta said in surprise.

"I want to show you how to play something." Without waiting for a reply, he took Elizabeta's hand and placed it on the keys. He put his hand on top of hers and guided her fingers to play a few notes. "This is Mozart," he said.

Elizabeta nodded. She felt a bit awkward, what with his hand over hers, but didn't say anything.

"All right." Roderich removed his hand. "Now you play it yourself," he instructed.

"I don't think I can," Elizabeta said. "I -"

"Go on."

With a frustrated sigh, Elizabeta tried to repeat the notes she'd just had help with. Her fingers fumbled at first, but eventually she got the rhythm and smiled. She was about to say something when she heard the awful screeching of an untuned electric guitar. Both she and Roderich startled and turned around.

Gilbert was at the far end of the store, a blue guitar in his hands. Judging from the expression on his face, he hadn't expected the guitar to make that kind of noise. He quickly set it down and tried to act as though nothing had happened. When he spotted Elizabeta, he raised his hand in a small wave.

Elizabeta smiled and shook her head slightly. She started to stand when she heard Roderich mutter, "Oh, so you're with him." When she turned to ask him what he meant, she saw him walking away. She would have called after him, but by now he was too far away.

"Who was that?"

"Hmm?" Elizabeta realized that Gilbert was now beside her.

Gilbert gestured after Roderich. "Who was that?" he repeated.

"Him? Oh, he's in my history class. I guess he likes music." Elizabeta shrugged.

"History class?" Gilbert asked. "You mean the third period history class?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I think that's one of my classes."

"Oh?" Elizabeta raised her brow. "I've never seen you there. The teacher doesn't do attendance out loud, so I hardly know anyone in that class."

"Yeah..." Gilbert made a face and shrugged. "I kind of have a habit of... Well, let's just say I skip class. A lot. Like, more than most people. I think the last time I went to that class was on the first day of the new semester."

"Why do you skip class so much?" Elizabeta questioned.

"I've already told you I hate school. It's stupid. Nothing we're taught is important. It's just a bunch of crap, and it's boring. So I don't go."

"But..." With a small frown, Elizabeta took a deep breath. "Then how do you expect to graduate? You have to pass the exams, and in order to pass them you have to go to class, and -"

"Look, can we stop talking about school? It's giving me a headache."

"Tomorrow's Monday. You are coming to history class with me, like it or not." Elizabeta put her hands on her hips and gave a brisk nod.

Gilbert raised his hands in defeat. "Yeah, yeah, fine. Now can we go? I'm bored."

"Of course. Come on."

. . . . .

Getting ready for bed is not an easy task when one is too preoccupied with one's thoughts. Elizabeta learned this when she was washing her face. She was too busy thinking to focus on the temperature of the water, and so was met with quite a shock when freezing cold water splashed her cheeks. She cried out in surprise and turned off the faucet. "What the shit!" she exclaimed.

"Language!" she heard her mother shout.

"Sorry!" She went to turn the water back on, but decided against it. _I can go one night without washing my face._ Reaching for a towel, she gently patted her face dry. As she replaced the towel on its rack, Elizabeta glanced down and saw the razor she used for shaving sitting on the edge of the bathtub. She picked it up and contemplated it. Up until a short time ago, it had seemed completely harmless.

But not anymore.

It would be a task to pry the individual blades out, but it could be done. And they were very sharp blades. She knew this for a fact, since she'd accidentally nicked herself once or twice in the past. If they were sharp enough to do that by accident, she could only imagine what they would be able to do on purpose.

Elizabeta shook her head. _No. Stop thinking like that._ She was about to replace the razor to the bathtub's edge, but stopped. Instead, she opened the cupboard beneath the sink and tucked it in the back. _There. That's safer._ Then she closed the cupboard doors.

She quickly braided her hair and brushed her teeth. With a final look around the bathroom, she nodded in approval. In her eyes, it was much safer now. She turned off the light and headed to her bedroom.

_**A/N:**_** Yay! So many chapters now! And like I've said in the past, there is still A FUCKLOAD to come. I already have the next three or four chapters planned out, so please look forward to them! :D**


	23. Troubled Times (Green Day)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**For some reason being in college is encouraging me to write more. Enjoy!**

The bell rang to signal the start of third period, but there was no teacher in the room. One kid muttered, "If he doesn't show up in fifteen minutes, then we can leave." Another kid threw a paper airplane across the room.

Gilbert and Elizabeta sat together at the back of the room. She had been able to convince him that morning to come with her to school, even though he really hadn't wanted to. That wasn't much of a surprise. First period had been awkward, since there was a mix of confusion and shock when the two of them had walked in together. No one had said anything, though. Elizabeta had also somehow managed to get Gilbert to show up to history class. She hadn't exactly expected it to work, but she was pleased.

"So you said you don't know anyone here?" Gilbert asked.

Elizabeta nodded. "That's right."

"Okay. So that kid there -" Gilbert pointed to a blonde boy near the window. "That's Blondie. The brown-haired guy beside him is Sad Eyes. They seem to be pretty good friends. And you know Hair Clip and Whiz Kid from homeroom," he went on, referring to Lukas Bondevik and Michelle Kent. "Then there's Eyebrows." He said this while gesturing to another blonde guy at the front of the room. Elizabeta noticed his prominent eyebrows, which likely led to the nickname. "And you met Glasses yesterday." He meant Roderich Edelstein, whom Elizabeta had indeed met at the music store the day before.

"Do you know their actual names?" Elizabeta asked.

"Why?"

"I can't exactly call them by the nicknames you've given them," Elizabeta said. "It's...rude."

Gilbert shrugged. "Fine. Like I said, you know Hair Clip and Whiz - I mean, Lukas and Michelle." He didn't seem too thrilled about calling them by their real names. "The two by the window are...Feliks and Toris. Then the guy with the eyebrows is Arthur."

Elizabeta was about to say something, but at that moment the teacher came in. It was twelve minutes after the bell. The students who had been getting ready to leave seemed to be extremely disappointed.

"Sorry, sorry," the teacher was saying. "I was held up at a meeting. Now..." He opened the textbook on his desk. "Who can tell me the main causes of World War One?"

There was the sound of books opening and pages shuffling. Elizabeta flipped through her notebook as well. Gilbert looked around in confusion. Tapping him on the shoulder, Elizabeta slid her textbook over.

Michelle Kent raised her hand. "Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary and his wife Sophie were assassinated by Gavrilo Princip of the Serbian terrorist group the Black Hand. Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia. Then Russia began to get involved since it was allies with Serbia. Shortly after, Germany declared war on Russia. Then -"

"Thank you, Michelle." The teacher looked around the room. "Does anyone have anything to add?"

"Um..." Elizabeta slowly raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"Two other causes of the war were imperialism and militarism. Many countries wanted to acquire wealth and power by controlling other territories, and the military began to have a large impact on the public."

"That's right. Now if you remember from last week," the teacher said, "you have a paper due on Thursday. Get to work."

Almost immediately, several students began chatting as they took out their notes. Others worked quietly. Elizabeta turned to Gilbert. "You have no idea what's going on, do you?" she whispered.

Gilbert shook his head. "Does it really matter?"

"Well..." Elizabeta considered this. She was torn. On one hand, she wanted him to be at least moderately successful, both in school and in life. But on the other hand, she knew how shy and awkward he was. He generally had no idea how to deal with people, and she felt so sorry for him. "No. No, it doesn't matter," she said softly. "Just do whatever you want. I don't care." She got out a pencil and began to write.

"Can I have a piece of paper?" Gilbert asked. "And maybe a pencil?"

"Sure." Opening her binder, she pulled out two slips of paper. Then she took another pencil from her pencil case. She slid the items over to Gilbert. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

Elizabeta nodded and went back to writing. After a few minutes, she glanced over at Gilbert's paper. She noticed for the first time that he was left-handed. His handwriting was extremely messy. It took her a while to decipher the scribbles, and when she did, she realized that they were song lyrics. Not from any song she knew. Perhaps he'd made them up himself. Gilbert seemed to sense that she was watching him, as he covered his paper with his right arm and moved away slightly.

_Hmm. I wonder what he's writing about. Maybe he'll tell me someday._ Elizabeta tapped her pencil against her desk for a short time. Then she got back to work.

. . . . .

With an annoyed sigh, Gilbert glanced up at the clock mounted on the wall. It was after school, and he was standing outside the washrooms, waiting for Elizabeta. "'You wait out here', she said. 'I won't be long', she said. Yeah, right," he muttered. "It's been like five minutes." He crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the glances of passing students. He was tired and not in a very good mood, and he just wanted to get out of this stupid place.

He became aware of someone calling, "Hey! Is that you?" His first reaction was to simply ignore it, but as it became louder and more persistant, he decided to turn around.

His younger brother Ludwig was standing behind him.

Just like old times, the two boys awkwardly stared at each other for a while. Neither knew what to say or do. Everything slowly ground to a halt.

Gilbert decided to speak first. Of course, what he said was possibly one of the stupidest things to ever come out of his mouth. "What are you doing here?"

"Um..." Ludwig was rightfully confused. "We go to the same school, remember?"

_Right._ "Why were you calling to me? Don't you have better things to do?"

"Well, no. What I mean is, uh..." After stumbling over his words, Ludwig took a breath and started over. "I've been worried about you. You disappeared on us again. We thought you were safe at the hospital, and then we saw the reports on the news, that you'd gotten out somehow... You never seem to like staying put. It's kind of hard for the rest of us. We just want you to be okay. Let us help you -"

"Just drop it, okay?" Gilbert said. "Things aren't nearly as hard for you as they are for me. You keep acting like you understand, but you don't. How many times have we been over this? You don't get it. You'll never get it. You want to know how you can help me? Leave me alone. That's it. Simple. Now can you go? I'm waiting for someone."

"Waiting for someone? Outside the girls' washroom?"

At that moment, the door to the girls' washroom opened, and Elizabeta stepped out. She had redone her hair and was humming quietly to herself. She looked mildly surprised when she saw the two boys standing in front of her and made a small questioning noise.

"Oh... Elizabeta, this is my brother," Gilbert said, turning away from Ludwig. "He was just leaving."

"Yeah, I know him. Sort of." Elizabeta laughed slightly. "We, um, ran into each other last week, wasn't it?" she said, directing her question to Ludwig.

Ludwig nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"Huh?" Gilbert looked from Elizabeta to Ludwig, then back to Elizabeta. "You guys met and you never told me?"

"Yeah. It's not a crime," Elizabeta said.

"You didn't have to keep it from me," Gilbert mumbled.

"Come on, don't take it out on her," Ludwig said. "She didn't do anything wrong."

"Whatever. I'm going." Without saying another word, Gilbert turned on his heel and left. He didn't look back.

"I might as well go, too," Elizabeta said, mostly to herself. She would have gone right after Gilbert, but she felt a gentle tug on her sleeve, and she stopped.

It was Ludwig. He let go of her sleeve and looked down. "I'm sorry, but... I never got to thank you..."

"Hmm?"

"You know, for the phone call... If you hadn't called, we never would have known about..."

"Oh. Right." Elizabeta nodded. She recalled that night, when, delirious with worry, she'd frantically dialed the number she looked up in the phone book. It seemed like so long ago, but... "You don't have to thank me..."

"I do. You saved his life. So... Thank you." Ludwig smiled awkwardly. Then he asked, "How has he been?"

"Good, I guess. He's staying with me and my mom," Elizabeta said. "He's very sarcastic, but that seems normal. And he eats a lot. I don't really know what else there is to say."

"Is he happy?"

Elizabeta was caught off-guard by the question. She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I mean, I think he is. He's never really said so, but he's never said that he isn't. He seems fine." As she spoke, Elizabeta noticed that Ludwig's expression was one of melancholy. She didn't know what she could say to make him happier.

Ludwig was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and defeated. "Watch out for him, will you? I'm sure he listens to you. Please keep him safe."

"I will, don't worry." Elizabeta gave a gentle smile. "Now I'm sorry, but I have to go. Bye." She turned and went in the same direction as Gilbert had, leaving Ludwig by himself.

_**A/N:**_** The "we can leave after fifteen minutes" thing was very common when I went to high school. You didn't have to stay in class if the teacher didn't show up after fifteen minutes past when the class was supposed to start. You wouldn't get in trouble, and you wouldn't get marked absent. Then again, I attended very strange high schools.**

**Also, please forgive the terrible nicknames. I was half-asleep when I came up with them and I thought they were really funny... But I have a horrible sense of humour.**

**I would have posted this a couple days ago, but let's just say I hadn't exactly finished it the way I liked. But here it is!**


	24. Still Breathing (Green Day)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Hey, guys! Before I go on, I would just like to say how much I love and appreciate all of you for sticking with me through this story. It's quite possibly my favourite thing that I've ever written, and every day I'm grateful for the fact that you enjoy it. So thank you :D**

**The past few chapters have been relatively light, but in this one we're going back to the dark side. This might sound horrible, but I've missed writing touchy stuff. So disclaimer for this chapter: mentions of self-harm, domestic abuse, and alcoholism.**

"The Schlieffen Plan sent German troops through Belgium into France..."

"Hey."

"Major battles at Ypres, Verdun, Vimy Ridge, Passchendaele..."

"Hey."

"If you include civilian casualties, then the death toll would be..."

"Hey!"

Elizabeta spun around in her chair. "What?" she demanded.

Gilbert recoiled slightly from where he sat cross-legged on Elizabeta's bed. "You don't have to yell."

"I have a four-page paper on World War One due on Thursday. I've hardly done any work on it," Elizabeta said. "I'm sorry if I sounded harsh, but I need to focus." She turned back to her desk to keep writing.

"You can do that later. Can we talk?"

"What about?" Elizabeta said, still writing.

Gilbert didn't answer. He looked down, biting his lip and frowning. He made a low-pitched humming sound, trying to make Elizabeta look up, but she didn't seem to notice.

Eventually, Elizabeta put her pencil down and turned around to face Gilbert. She folded her hands on her lap and said, "You wanted to talk. So let's talk."

"You look like a therapist," Gilbert said. There wasn't any hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Is that really a bad thing? I guess I am a bit like a therapist, you know, since I'm letting you talk about -"

"Do you think I'm crazy?" Gilbert interrupted.

"I - What?" Elizabeta tilted her head and squinted slightly. "Why in the world would I think that?"

"Because everyone else thinks so. I think so. It just wouldn't surprise me if you did, too."

"Hey..." Elizabeta got up from her chair and approached her bed. She sat down and faced Gilbert. "Please don't talk like that," she said softly. "You're perfectly normal. You have to believe me."

Gilbert didn't look up. He said in a quiet voice, "Do you know what it's like to be filled with so much pain that you don't know what to do? Other people, they... They pretend to get it. But they don't. They could never feel what I feel." He shook his head. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. It's not like you can do anything about it."

"I can try to help. I know I can't do much, but... You know, I just want you to be okay. I care about you. And other people care about you, too. My mom does. And you may not think so, but your brother does, too." Elizabeta went to reach for Gilbert's hand, but stopped. "From what you've told me, your mother really loved you. Didn't she tell you to be brave?"

Gilbert moved away slightly, still looking down. "It's hard," he muttered.

"I know."

"Do you? Do you really know how hard it is?" Gilbert's voice suddenly turned bitter. He looked right at Elizabeta. "Have you been called stupid or worthless practically every day of your life? Have you been afraid to say or do anything in case you get in trouble? Have you ever had to watch someone you care about get hurt because they're trying to protect you?" He fell silent when he realized what he just said, and a look of horror slowly spread across his face. He could tell that Elizabeta was holding her breath.

The uncomfortable silence dragged on for a long time. Eventually there was a distant rumble of thunder, and raindrops began pattering against the window. Elizabeta slowly stood up and went back to her desk. Without a word, she sat down and continued to work on her paper. She didn't even look up when Gilbert got up off of the bed and left the room.

. . . . .

It was very late - past three in the morning - when Gilbert made his way back upstairs. He had spent the evening on the couch in the living room attempting to read, but his mind had wandered too much for him to focus. He couldn't believe what he'd accidentally revealed to Elizabeta. _Well, I guess she would've found out at some point. But I never really wanted to tell her._

He remembered the times his mother had struggled to spare him from his father's alcohol-induced rage. Her attempts had always been in vain, but that had never deterred her. Even when she was bleeding from a cut on her forehead, even when her ribs were broken, she still fought back. But nothing she did ever worked. She always lost.

Gilbert recalled that after her death, the abuse had seemed to get worse. He had been thrust into the role of protector, trying to make sure that his brother was safe. At least he had succeeded in that. He doubted that Ludwig remembered anything from that time. In a way, he was happy for that.

He found himself outside Elizabeta's room, and he peered in through the slightly open door. The room was dark, but when his eyes finally adjusted, he saw Elizabeta curled up on her bed, sound asleep. He would have gone in, but he had more important things to do first.

He went into the bathroom and opened the cupboard beneath the sink. The night before, he had heard Elizabeta rummaging around in there, and he was curious. What he found was pretty dull - toilet paper, shampoo, a box or two filled with strange items. He was about to close the cupboard doors when something in the back caught his eye. He reached for it and took it out.

It was a pink razor, the kind girls used to shave with. What intrigued him were the blades embedded in the plastic. However, he had no idea how to get them out.

_What to do..._ Standing up, Gilbert looked around the small room. He noticed a pair of tweezers resting on the counter. Those would probably do the trick.

It took some time, but finally the blades came loose. There were five separate blades, but only one would do the trick. Gilbert selected one and set the rest on the counter. Then he examined his wrists. If he cut them, there was a very high chance of Elizabeta finding out. It had to be somewhere no one would see.

He was suddenly struck with an idea, and he lifted his shirt to reveal his stomach. This was an ingenious plan. Who would ever see the cuts there?

Biting his lip, he slowly dragged the small blade over his skin. It took a few seconds for any blood to show. He cut again and again until there were several bloody lines of various lengths criss-crossing over the right side of his stomach. He felt dizzy, but the blood was a comforting sight. It reminded him that he was still alive. It didn't matter how he felt on the inside. He still existed in this world.

After a few minutes, Gilbert took some tissues and dabbed at the blood. It stung a bit, but he didn't care. He also made sure to clean the blade and put the razor back together as best he could. He replaced it to the back of the cupboard. As he turned to leave, he noticed his reflection in the mirror. Up until now, he had been unaware of how tired he looked. _Well, there's no help for it, I guess._

He left the bathroom and quietly slipped into Elizabeta's room. He did his best not to make a sound as he went over to her desk and got a slip of paper and a pencil. With the help of what little light came in through the window, Gilbert haphazardly scribbled a few sentences telling Elizabeta not to worry about him. Once that was done, he moved to put the note on Elizabeta's nightstand.

Elizabeta made a soft noise in her sleep and rolled onto her back. Gilbert froze, too scared to move. There was a moment of intense anxiety when he feared that Elizabeta would wake up. But she didn't. Her regular breathing soon resumed.

Gilbert let out a sigh of relief. He set the note down and watched Elizabeta for a little while. _You know, she's kind of cute. But it's not that I like her... Right? No, we're just friends. I think._

There was a loud clap of thunder, and he jumped. He left Elizabeta's room and tiptoed down the stairs. As quietly as possible, he put on his jacket and shoes. Then he opened the door and went out into the night.

_**A/N:**_** We're heading into another dark arc (hey, that rhymed), so be prepared.**

**Like I said before, I really love you guys. 5,915 views at the time I'm posting this. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that was possible. So thank you, thank you, thank you!**


	25. Shout (Tears for Fears)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**You know, I really wish I was kidding when I say I was up until 3 in the morning writing this chapter. That's why it's as long as it is.**

**I need a hobby.**

**Also, just a warning that there is a slight mention of domestic abuse.**

Elizabeta groaned when she heard her alarm go off. In an attempt to shut it off, she blindly groped around and ended up knocking the clock and some other items off of the nightstand. The alarm continued to chirp.

"Come on..." She sat up and reached down to pick up the fallen items. As she turned off the alarm and set it back in its place, she noticed a piece of paper that hadn't been there when she'd gone to bed. Since she was still somewhat asleep, the page was a complete blur. She picked it up and looked at it. The sloppy handwriting was familiar. There was no doubt that Gilbert had written this note. Elizabeta read:

_Hey, it's me, but you probably already guessed that, huh? Anyway, it's really late right now and I can't sleep, so I'm going out. Don't worry about me. I'll come back. I just need some time to figure things out. Please don't be mad at me._

There were a couple more sentences, but they were so messy that Elizabeta couldn't make them out. That was when she finally realized that Gilbert wasn't there. Where could he have possibly gone? She was worried about him, even though he had written that she didn't have to. She couldn't help it.

She dressed and did her hair, then went downstairs. "Mom? Where are you?" she called.

"In here," her mother replied from the kitchen.

Elizabeta went into the kitchen, where her mother was putting away the dishes. Ms. Héderváry looked over and said, "Morning, sweetie. Where's Gilbert?"

"That's what I want to know." Elizabeta leaned against the counter. "When I got up this morning, I found this note he'd left. Apparently he went out in the middle of the night to 'figure some things out'. I don't know what he meant by that. Anyway, he must have been really quiet, since I didn't hear a thing."

"Do you know why he decided to leave?"

"No. Why would I?"

Ms. Héderváry finished putting the dishes away and turned to face Elizabeta. "I thought I heard a bit of an argument coming from your room last night," she said. "I was down here, so I couldn't hear what you were saying, but a little while later, I heard Gilbert go into the living room. I went to ask him what was wrong, but he didn't answer. He didn't seem like he was in a very good mood." She tilted her head. "So do you want to tell me why he was acting like that?"

"We weren't arguing. And do you think I had something to do with his mood?" Elizabeta was aware that she sounded a bit defensive, so she quickly added, "Okay, well, maybe I said something..."

"Go on."

"Well, uh... I don't really know how to put it." Elizabeta went over the conversation in her head. "He said he wanted to talk, so we talked, and then... Well, I don't think he wanted to say what he did... But... You already know a bit about what his family life's like, right? I think it's worse than what he's let on."

Ms. Héderváry frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Look, I don't really want to talk about it, since I'd just be guessing. Besides, I have to get to school."

"Do you want me to drive you?"

"No, I can walk," Elizabeta said as she got her bag. "I think I might walk home, too. See you later." With that, she left the kitchen, put on her jacket and shoes, and went out the front door.

Elizabeta realized, about halfway through her walk, that the school was much farther away than she had thought. On top of that, she hadn't known that it was raining, so she hadn't thought to bring an umbrella. By the time she walked up the front steps of the school building, she was wet and out of breath. She had barely walked through the front doors when she heard the five-minute warning bell. With a frustrated sigh, she ran up the main stairs, nearly slipping once or twice.

When she reached the second floor, she passed a group of first-years standing outside a classroom. She would have kept going had she not recognized one of them. Out of politeness, Elizabeta stopped and said, "Good morning, Ludwig."

Ludwig, along with the rest of his classmates, turned to look at her. He seemed pleased to see her, while the others stared at her, seemingly shocked that a third-year student was actually speaking to someone of their lowly status.

"I have to get to class right now," Elizabeta said, "but I want to talk to you later. Want to meet up at lunch?"

"Sure," Ludwig said with a nod.

Elizabeta smiled. "Good. I'll see you then." As she walked away, she laughed to herself when she heard Ludwig struggling to answer the questions posed to him by his classmates who wondered who she was.

. . . . .

"So tell me about yourself," Elizabeta said as she nudged the lump on her plate that claimed to be meatloaf. She was sitting across from Ludwig in the cafeteria.

"I don't really know what there is to say," Ludwig replied.

"Come on, indulge me a little here. I hardly know anything about you. I'm just curious."

"Well, I hardly know anything about you," Ludwig retorted. "So why don't you start?"

"Okay, I will." Elizabeta began to describe her life in detail: where she'd grown up, what schools she'd gone to, and why she and her mother had moved here. She even threw in a few mundane facts, like her blood type and star sign. When she was done, she grinned and said, "Your turn."

Ludwig frowned slightly. "I honestly have no idea what to tell you. I haven't moved around like you have. I've lived here my whole life," he said.

"Then why don't you tell me about your family?"

"Okay. Well, as you know, Gilbert's my older brother," Ludwig started. "He wasn't always the way he is now. We actually used to be really close, if you can believe it. I don't remember exactly when it was, but he just changed practically overnight. He started acting out and locking himself in his room. I didn't know what to do. I still don't."

"Hmm." Elizabeta nodded.

"Our father's pretty strict. I'm fine with it for the most part, but Gilbert isn't." Ludwig shrugged slightly. "I work hard at school and make sure to do chores at home, so I don't get in trouble. But Gilbert, he's... It's like he's on a completely different wavelength. I can't remember the last time he did what he was told. He doesn't listen, and he talks back a lot. So he gets in trouble."

Elizabeta decided to pose the question she'd been wanting to ask. "Is your father ever abusive?"

"What?" Ludwig shook his head. "No. I mean, he yells sometimes, but -" He stopped talking, and a look of sudden realization appeared on his face.

"What is it?" Elizabeta asked.

"There have been times where I've been in another room and I've heard Gilbert and our dad arguing, and sometimes... You know, now that you've mentioned it, I think it might be true. I don't think I've ever actually seen it happen, but sometimes Gilbert will have a black eye or something like that." Ludwig sighed and put his head in his hands. "I'm so stupid. How could I have not realized why?"

"Hey, don't get mad at yourself," Elizabeta said gently. She reached out and touched Ludwig's arm. "At least you know now."

"But I could have tried to do something about it. Now I know why he hates me. I never helped him."

Elizabeta was quiet for a little while. When she finally spoke again, her voice was slightly hesitant. "Do you remember much about your mother?"

Ludwig looked up and slowly shook his head. "Not really," he said. "I was seven when she died. What I do remember is very limited and kind of stupid. I know she had dark hair, and I don't think she was that tall. And she had a gentle voice. That's it. I can't remember anything else. But Gilbert was really attached to her. Which reminds me..."

"Yeah?"

"I apologize if this is a somewhat off-handed question. You don't have to answer if you don't want to." Ludwig sighed again. "Do you like my brother? I don't mean as just a friend."

"Oh... Um..." Elizabeta felt her face flush slightly, and she looked down. "If I'm being honest, then yes. I've only recently admitted it to myself. But it's not like he'd ever reciprocate. So I guess I just have to deal with that fact."

"Is he here at school today?" Ludwig asked. "I didn't see him with you this morning."

"No, he's not." Elizabeta didn't exactly how to say why Gilbert wasn't there, so she resorted to lying. "He said he wasn't feeling well this morning, so he stayed home."

Ludwig nodded slowly. "Well, as long as he's okay."

Elizabeta forced a smile. "He's fine," she said. Then she glanced at her watch. "I have to go. I have class in a few minutes."

"Yeah, me too. Do you want to talk tomorrow?"

"Sure," Elizabeta said as she stood up. "Same time tomorrow, then. Bye."

"Bye."

. . . . .

Gilbert yawned and looked up at the cloudy sky. It had stopped raining some time ago, and the air was still quite damp. His clothes were wet, but he didn't care. He was pretty cold, though.

He had no idea what time it was, but it felt like the afternoon. He'd spent the night in the cemetery, taking shelter from the rain underneath a large oak tree. At the present moment, Gilbert was sitting in front of his mother's gravestone, clearing away the sticks and leaves that lay near it. He enjoyed quiet times like this, when no one was around and there wasn't a chance he'd get in trouble. It was peaceful.

_I wish it was always this quiet. It would be so nice. And I wish you were still here, Mom. I miss you._

He felt a few tears escape his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away. There was no way he was going to cry. Not here.

Gilbert let out a long sigh. He was so tired. Not physically, but mentally. He was trying to hard to act as normal as he could so that Elizabeta wouldn't worry. He felt like he had succeeded so far. But it was exhausting to put on an act like that. It took so much out of him.

"Mom, please help me. I feel like I'm losing my mind." He scared himself when he realized that he'd said that out loud. Maybe he really was losing it. Or maybe he'd already lost it. He didn't know.

He quickly stood up and looked around. There was no one in sight. He left the cemetery and turned left, heading up the street. A few cars passed him during his walk, but he ignored him. After about half an hour, he was on the bridge leading out of town. He looked down at the rushing water below. It would be a long fall, and likely pretty painful.

_Stop it._ Gilbert backed away from the ledge and shook his head. He was unaware of how far back he'd stepped until he heard the loud honk of a car horn and looked up. He was directly in the path of a large black van. With a small shout, he jumped back onto the sidewalk just seconds before the van sped past. He began to shake with adrenaline and fear. His legs gave out, and he sank to the ground.

It was some time before he had the strength to get up. He felt unwell. After taking a couple of minutes to collect himself, he slowly began the trek back to Elizabeta's house. It had to be after school by now.

The house finally came into view. Gilbert made his way up the driveway and to the front door. He was reaching for the handle when the door was pulled open.

Elizabeta was standing in the doorway. Without a word, she stepped forward and hugged him. She then moved back and whispered, "Welcome home."

. . . . .

"I can't believe you just got up and left in the middle of the night," Elizabeta exclaimed, shaking her head. The two of them were sitting side by side on her bed. It was around ten in the evening. "What, did you think I wouldn't panic?"

"That's why I wrote you that note," Gilbert said. "I told you not to worry."

"I don't care! I can't help how I feel." Elizabeta looked down. "You're your own person, and I get that, but maybe once in a while you could consider other people's feelings." She kept talking, but Gilbert had stopped paying attention. He hadn't meant to. He was still listening, but more to the sound of her voice than to her actual words. When had he realized that her voice sounded a lot like his mother's had?

He recalled the conversation they'd had a few days earlier, when Elizabeta had been talking about guardian angels and heaven and stuff like that. Gilbert had said that he didn't believe in that, but now he was reconsidering. Elizabeta had come into his life when he was at an extremely low point. She'd stubbornly worked to break his shell and get him to open up. When everyone else gave up on him, she persisted. It was something he admired about her. _You know, she did kind of save me. It could just be a coincidence, but maybe there's more to it than that._

Elizabeta's voice steadily faded, and she yawned, but Gilbert barely noticed. He did, however, notice when she put her head on his shoulder. He was more than a little surprised. He tapped her cheek and called to her, but it didn't work. She was fast asleep.

Gilbert was too afraid to move. So despite the fact that he was sitting in a slightly uncomfortable way, he stayed perfectly still so as not to wake Elizabeta. He gently patted her head and whispered, "Good night."

_**A/N:**_** Pretty quick update, huh? :P I've been on a roll writing-wise lately, so that's probably why. Now if only I actually had motivation to do my school work.**

**On an unrelated note, I've recently discovered that I can only draw Gilbert when I'm listening to Green Day. I have no idea why.**


	26. I Bet My Life (Imagine Dragons)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**I've been updating on a somewhat normal schedule lately, huh? Hopefully I can keep going like that.**

_This isn't my pillow._ Those were Elizabeta's first thoughts when she woke up. She knew that she was lying down, but whatever her head was resting on wasn't all that soft. With a yawn, she opened her eyes. Her ceiling light was on, and it seemed to be very dark outside. As Elizabeta lifted her head, she became aware of the sound of quiet snoring. This baffled her until she sat up and glanced over her shoulder. She let out a small shriek of surprise.

Gilbert was lying on his back near the foot of the bed, sleeping. That was when Elizabeta came to the realization that her head must have been resting on his shoulder or chest. _But... How did that happen?_ She had no memory of even falling asleep.

According to her clock, it was quarter after twelve. As carefully as she could, she got up from the bed and went over to her closet. The sweater and sweatpants she was wearing, though comfy, were very hot, so she decided to change. She selected a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt from her assortment of casual clothes. With her back to the bed, Elizabeta pulled off her sweater and tossed it aside before putting on the T-shirt and smoothing it out. Then she took off her sweatpants and slid into the shorts. Now she felt much cooler.

"What are you doing?"

Elizabeta stifled a scream as she spun around. She saw Gilbert sitting up on the bed, regarding her with mild curiosity. He pointed to the discarded clothes on the floor and asked, "Did you just change?"

"Y-yes. What do you care?" Elizabeta felt her cheeks grow hot. "Y-you weren't watching, were you?"

"No. What kind of person do you think I am?"

Elizabeta crossed her arms over her chest. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I was," Gilbert said. "But you woke me when you got up."

"Hmm. Hey," Elizabeta said as she approached the bed and sat on the edge, "how did we even end up falling asleep in the first place?"

Gilbert shrugged. "You were talking, and I spaced out a bit, and the next thing I knew, you had your head on my shoulder. I tried to wake you up, but I couldn't," he explained. "I thought it was kind of cute, to be honest. I never pictured you as the type to fall asleep on someone. Anyway, I guess after a while I fell asleep, too."

"You thought it was cute?" Elizabeta said with a small smile.

"Did I say cute? I-I didn't mean that. I meant weird. Inconvenient. You know, you shouldn't just fall asleep on someone..."

Elizabeta laughed. "Deny it all you want," she said. "I know what you said."

"Whatever. Can we stop talking about it?" Gilbert looked away.

"Okay. Let's change the subject." Elizabeta thought for a minute. "I'd like you to promise me something."

"What?"

"Please don't leave in the middle of the night again. It may not be that big of a deal to you, but it scares me. I don't like it," Elizabeta said quietly.

"I don't know..." Gilbert stood up and went over to the window. He leaned against the windowsill and sighed. "I'd like to be able to promise you that, but I'm not sure I can. Sometimes I just get this feeling that I have to leave. I can't really explain it." He turned around to face Elizabeta. "Do you get that? I'm not good at staying in one place for too long."

Elizabeta absentmindedly tugged at the sleeve of her shirt. "We could always come up with a compromise," she suggested. "If you really feel like you have to leave, you can wake me up and tell me. That way I'll know and won't worry as much."

"You're saying you'd want me to wake you up? Really?"

"If necessary."

"All right." With a shrug, Gilbert turned back to the window. He tapped on the glass and hummed quietly.

Elizabeta wanted to have a longer discussion, but she felt her eyelids grow heavy, and she yawned and lay down. She muttered a quiet "Good night" before drifting off into sleep.

Gilbert didn't notice until he turned around to tell her something and saw her lying across the bed. He went over and covered her with her blanket. Then he sat on the very edge of the bed, careful not to disturb Elizabeta, and observed her.

Elizabeta's long hair was fanned out around her head. Her expression was peaceful, her breathing calm and even. Her eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. She made infrequent, quiet sounds. Gilbert wondered if she was dreaming.

He stood up and left the room. Yes, he was pretty tired, but there were more pressing matters at the moment. Once that was taken care of, he could go to sleep.

He opened the cupboard under the bathroom sink.

. . . . .

"Can you tell me where the music room is?" Elizabeta asked as she and Ludwig walked out of the cafeteria together. They had just wrapped up another meaningful conversation, and now Elizabeta wanted a few minutes of leisure time before the start of her next class.

"Sure," Ludwig said. "The fastest way is up the back stairs. There are actually two music rooms side by side at the end of the second floor. Rooms 201 and 203."

"Okay, thanks. See you later," Elizabeta said as she went in the direction of the back stairs. It was an isolated part of the school; hardly anyone was in sight. As she made her way up the stairs, she began to hear the faint sound of someone playing the piano. It grew louder and louder until she was outside of room 201. She opened the door.

The room was large, filled with several music stands and chairs. There were shelves with sheet music to the right. A drum kit and two pianos, one black and one brown, were on the left. Roderich Edelstein was sitting at the black piano, his eyes closed, calmly playing a piece by Mozart. He hadn't seemed to notice Elizabeta at all.

Elizabeta quietly stepped into the room and closed the door. She went over to the brown piano and sat down on the bench, observing the way Roderich's fingers moved expertly over the ivory keys.

The music stopped abruptly, and Roderich glanced her way. "We meet again," he said coolly.

"Yeah. Hi, I guess." Elizabeta awkwardly played a scale, wincing slightly when she hit a wrong note. She said half-jokingly, "So who did you sell your soul to in order to play piano so well?"

"I've been taking lessons since I was four," Roderich responded. "I come from a family of musicians."

"...Cool." Elizabeta had noticed the first time she and Roderich spoke that he directly answered the questions she asked and didn't add anything else. He simply stated the facts, nothing more. Of course, Gilbert was like that to some extent, although he often accidentally revealed more than he wanted to. At least he had a sense of humour. Roderich seemed very dry.

"Oh, that reminds me," Roderich said as he continued playing. "Your companion is in the other room."

"My...companion?"

Roderich nodded. "Indeed. He came in here about ten minutes ago, and when he noticed me, he left." He nodded to a small door at the far side at the room. "There's a corridor that leads to the other room. He went through there."

"Oh. Thanks," Elizabeta said, standing up. She walked over to the small door and opened it. She looked back at Roderich. "Your playing's really great, by the way."

"Hmm."

As Elizabeta went through the door, she heard the faint strumming of an acoustic guitar. She also heard a familiar, slightly hoarse voice singing softly. She walked quietly through the corridor, passing a small room filled with instrument cases. The door at the end of the corridor was closed, but Elizabeta could see through the small window.

This second room was smaller, with risers instead of chairs. There was a mid-sized piano in the corner. Gilbert was sitting on one of the risers, a guitar in his hands. The guitar was a standard for right-handed people, so he was having a bit of trouble, but his playing wasn't bad. Elizabeta opened the door just a crack so she could hear better. The song was entirely unfamiliar, but she enjoyed it.

Gilbert stopped playing and set the guitar down. Without looking in Elizabeta's direction, he asked, "Do you want something, or are you just planning on eavesdropping?"

Taking that as an invitation, Elizabeta opened the door all the way and leaned against the doorframe. "So you play guitar."

"Kind of. I'm not very good. Besides, even if I was, all the guitars here are for right-handed people. It's a pain." Gilbert assumed a closed-off position, when just seconds before he had seemed quite confident.

"Did you write that song?" Elizabeta asked.

"Maybe."

"I liked it."

"It's not done yet. I still have to work some things out," Gilbert muttered. He picked up the guitar again.

Elizabeta looked up at the clock. "You know, history class starts soon," she said. "Do you want to come, or -"

"No."

"Oh. Okay." Elizabeta was a bit taken aback by his sharp tone, but she decided to let it slide. "I'll meet up with you later, all right? Oh, and I think Mom's making something really good for dinner tonight."

Gilbert fiddled with the guitar strings. "Cool," he replied, not looking up.

Elizabeta turned and closed the door before starting to head back to the other room. Just as she left, the guitar started again, and she paused to listen. It was faint, but she could hear Gilbert singing passionately:

"I'm still here, waiting for you. Even if you go, I won't forget you..."

_**A/N:**_** The bit of lyric at the end is actually a song I'm currently writing. Just in case you were wondering.**

**Also, if you guys would like to see a particular scene or something, just go ahead and suggest it, and I'll see what I can do ;)**


	27. Unwritten (Natasha Bedingfield)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**A little bit of time has passed between the last chapter and this one, just so you know.**

**And I've written the rest of the song, so prepare to see snippets of that! :D**

**And also warning for slight mention of self-harm.**

Elizabeta stood in front of the bathroom mirror, putting her hair up into a loose bun. She looked at herself sideways and three-quarters, then shook her head. It was Friday evening, the day before Michelle Kent's party, and Elizabeta was trying to narrow down how she wanted to look. She'd already tried a braid and a ponytail, but neither of those seemed to work. She shrugged. _Maybe I'll just keep it down._ She quickly tied her hair in a messy ponytail and headed for her bedroom.

Gilbert was sitting on the bed, scribbling in a notebook. He looked up when Elizabeta sauntered in and shut the notebook, setting it down at his side. He eyed her cautiously as she paced around the room. Finally he asked, "Are you okay?"

"I need your help with something," Elizabeta began.

"Oh, no."

"As you know, Michelle's party is tomorrow -"

"Uh-huh," Gilbert said, sounding completely disinterested.

"I'm pretty excited, but I have a slight problem," Elizabeta continued. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to wear. I've never been to a party like this before."

Gilbert frowned. "And you're asking _me_ for help?"

"I guess so." Elizabeta nodded sheepishly.

"I don't have any more experience in this sort of thing than you do. I can't be of any assistance." Waving his hand in the direction of the closet, Gilbert suggested, "Why don't you just grab something random and wear that?"

"Now why would I do that?"

Gilbert shrugged. "It's easier?"

"You know, that's not really something that girls do..."

"I don't know what girls do in general."

"God, you are not helpful," Elizabeta mumbled as she went over to her closet. After a few seconds, she took out two shirts and held them up. "Which one do you like better?"

"What if I don't like either of them?"

"Are you trying to be difficult?"

"I'm just asking a question." Gilbert pointed to one. "I like the black one," he said.

"Really? I'm leaning more towards the purple," Elizabeta replied.

Gilbert groaned and fell back onto the bed. "Then why did you ask me in the first place? I told you I didn't want to do this."

Elizabeta put the shirts back. She began to look through her selection of skirts. "I forget, did you decide that you were coming with me?" she asked.

"I think so. If only just to do something," Gilbert said. "I'd probably get bored staying here." He sat up. "What even goes on at parties, anyway?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Elizabeta pulled out a black pleated skirt and looked it over. "Michelle said that most of the people from our grade are coming, plus a few others. I talked to her the other day. She said there's a chance that kids from another school will be there."

"How long are we going to be there?"

"It doesn't start until around nine, I think. So we have a lot of time to get ready." Putting the skirt back, Elizabeta turned to face Gilbert. "I think I'm going to go have a shower, and then I'll probably go to bed," she said.

"Cool." Gilbert picked up the notebook at his side and opened it. He flipped through the pages and began writing, humming softly to himself.

Elizabeta smiled and left for the bathroom. She closed the door and made sure to lock it. In the past, she'd never really thought about locking the door, but she had recently started now that Gilbert was staying with her. It wasn't that she didn't trust him; it simply put her mind at ease to do it. As she turned on the water, a thought crossed her mind and she checked the cupboard under the sink. She was pleased to see that everything was as she had left it. It seemed that Gilbert hadn't found the razor.

She took off her clothes and happened to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. _I actually look really good._ She wasn't skinny, but she was slender with nice curves. Unlike a lot of other girls she knew, Elizabeta had never really had issues with self-confidence. This made her happy.

She checked the temperature of the water. Once it was just the way she liked it, she stepped into the shower.

. . . . .

Gilbert quietly slipped into Elizabeta's dark room, shutting the door behind him. He tiptoed over to the bed and sat down beside it on the floor. The fresh cuts on his stomach were sore, and he winced slightly. He was particularly mad at himself. Normally he was able to exercise some self-constraint when he cut, but not tonight. It had taken a surprising amount of time to stop the bleeding, and he'd had no idea what to do with all the bloody tissues. He'd ended up flushing them down the toilet. It seemed like the best thing to do to avoid suspicion.

He felt like crying. But there was no way he could tell Elizabeta. She would just get upset. So he would have to suffer in silence.

_Why am I thinking like this? I thought I was getting better. Maybe I was just destined to fuck everything up._ With a sigh, Gilbert stood up and made his way over to the window. It was very dark outside, and the wind was blowing quite strongly. He groaned and rested his forehead against the cool glass. This helped calm him down somewhat.

"Hey, Elizabeta," he whispered. He knew that she was sleeping and couldn't hear him, but he just needed to talk. "I don't want you to hate me, but I've been having some trouble. I don't know what to do. I'm slipping. If you only knew what I've been doing..." He laughed slightly and turned around. "Even after all this, I still can't get over your compassion. I don't know how I can thank you. Do...you remember that song? You know, the one I was working on when you found me in the music room? Well, I finished it. Do you want to hear it?"

Naturally, Elizabeta gave no response. The best reaction she gave was to turn over in her sleep.

Taking that as a yes, Gilbert grabbed his notebook and opened it to the right page. Then he went over to Elizabeta's bed and sat on the edge, saying, "I don't have a guitar here, so it might not sound very good. Anyway, I hope you like it." Taking a deep breath, he began to sing:

"You may think I'm crazy, and maybe, well, you're right

I've only ever seen the darkness, I never thought I'd see the light

But suddenly you're by my side, I can't believe it's true

You're the best thing in my life, it's time for me to start anew..."

Elizabeta was still sleeping. She sighed softly.

"But one day, you'll get up and leave for the place you've always wanted to be

And I'll be left behind, all by myself... I wonder if you'll remember me..."

Gilbert didn't realize that his voice had started to quiver slightly. He kept singing:

"I wish that I could make you happy, but I only ever seem to make you cry

I can never do anything right, I don't even know what's worth the fight

Some days I feel like I could -"

He didn't finish the song. He dropped the notebook and broke down into tears.

_**A/N:**_** Yay. Sadness.**

**Stomach cutting is painful, I can attest to that. It makes it hard to do anything (walking, sitting, reaching for something, you name it)**

**A few of the lyrics were actually somewhat inspired by a conversation I had with WitchhPrincess. If you want the full lyrics, just go ahead and ask!**


	28. Voulez-Vous (ABBA)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**So this chapter is long. It's one I've kind of been ramping up to for a while (a while meaning it was first mentioned in chapter 20, which I wrote two years ago...). Yes, it's the party chapter! It's not as fun as you think. Shit happens. This went through a lot of revisions, which is why I'm updating a bit later than normal**

**Here's when we get to see that Elizabeta has some of her own issues going on, which will be explored in more detail later on**

**Warning for sexual assault**

_How long does it take for girls to get ready?_ Gilbert wondered as he stood by the front door. It was nearing eight-thirty on Saturday evening, and Elizabeta still wasn't ready. In the last ten minutes alone, she had been up and down the stairs no less than three times, searching for such things as her bag and shoes. Each time she found something, she realized that she had misplaced something else. This had been going on for several minutes.

Gilbert was growing very impatient. He'd had an unpleasant night and his mood was just getting worse. On top of that, he hated waiting. He cursed quietly and tapped his foot against the hardwood floor.

Elizabeta's mother stepped out of the living room and called up to the second floor. "Honey, do you need any help?"

"No, I'm good!" came Elizabeta's response.

Ms. Héderváry smiled and turned to Gilbert. "She's so excited for this party, and I'm happy for her. She's been under quite a bit of stress since we moved here. I'm glad that she's starting to settle in."

Gilbert was slightly uncomfortable with being addressed directly, but his curiosity had been piqued, and he asked quietly, "She's been stressed? Really?"

"I know it probably doesn't seem like it, since she has a lot of energy, but that energy comes from anxiety. She's high-strung," Ms. Héderváry explained. "She works herself half to death when it comes to school, and gets upset when she doesn't get the mark she expected. I've told her time and again to give herself a break, to relax a little, but she won't listen. She had a terrible panic attack last year, the poor thing." With a sigh and a shake of her head, she continued, "Erzsi's very fragile. She tries so hard to make sure that everyone's happy, but she sometimes neglects her own needs."

"Hmm." Gilbert nodded. Either he was completely oblivious, or Elizabeta hid it very well - or maybe even both - but he'd had no idea.

"Next year's her last year in high school, and then she'll be off to university. I still can't believe it. She's already started working on her application essay," Ms. Héderváry said with a laugh.

Gilbert looked up in shock. "University? Where?"

"I'm not sure. She's said that the one in the city seems nice. It's only an hour and a half's drive away. Apparently it has an excellent history program. Has she told you that she'd like to be a history teacher?"

Gilbert was having trouble comprehending what he had just been told. Elizabeta would be leaving him? He knew that he'd never be able to get into university - he probably wouldn't even be able to get into college. So he couldn't go with her. _She's leaving me? Leaving me?_ The words played over and over in his head like a broken record. _Leaving me? She's leaving me?_

"By the way," Ms. Héderváry said in a soft voice, "would you mind looking out for her at the party? It may seem like an odd request, but I just want her to be safe. Could you do that for me?"

"Um... Yeah, of course," Gilbert said. "I promise."

Ms. Héderváry smiled. "Thank you. I knew I could trust you."

Unsure of how to respond, Gilbert looked away. He felt a little flustered. But he was also proud to be given the responsibility of looking after Elizabeta. _I hope I don't fuck this up._

"I'm ready!" Elizabeta called from the top of the stairs. She ran down, apologizing for taking so long. "I couldn't decide which shoes looked the best, and then I had to find matching earrings..."

"It's all right, sweetie," Ms. Héderváry said. "You look beautiful."

Elizabeta smiled. "Thanks."

And she really did. She had curled her hair and swept it over her shoulder. She wore a red blouse and a short black skirt - _won't she be cold?_ \- with matching flats. Even the bracelet she wore was black and red. If Gilbert had known she was going to look so nice, he likely wouldn't have chosen to wear just a T-shirt and jeans. Oh, well. There was no use second-guessing now.

Elizabeta reached for her jacket. "I think we're probably going to walk there and back," she said to her mother. "I'll call you if there's a change of plans."

"All right. Be safe," Ms. Héderváry said. "And try to be home before midnight, okay?"

"Okay."

"And most importantly... Have fun."

"Of course. I know we will." Elizabeta turned to Gilbert. "Are you ready?"

"I've been ready for about half an hour," Gilbert replied bluntly. "I'm bored. Can we go now?"

"Yeah, come on," Elizabeta said as she opened the door. "Well, we're off!"

. . . . .

"Is this the right place?"

"Yeah, I think so. The address is correct."

Elizabeta and Gilbert walked up the driveway of a large house in the upscale part of the town. Even from outside, they could hear music playing. Elizabeta wondered if they would get any noise complaints. They had barely walked up the front steps when the door opened and Michelle Kent appeared, a big smile on her face. Her hair was done up in a braided crown and she wore a pretty light blue dress. She stepped aside and waved them in, saying, "Good to see you! Come in, come in."

"Thanks. Good to see you, too," Elizabeta said as she entered the house. Gilbert seemed hesitant, but he followed her.

"I'm so glad you were able to come," Michelle said. She closed the door. "Anyway, make yourselves at home. Upstairs is off-limits, but feel free to go anywhere else. We have snacks and drinks. I'll be around, so if you need me, just come find me. I really hope you have fun." She winked and walked off.

As soon as Michelle was far enough away, Gilbert nudged Elizabeta and muttered, "She's always so happy."

"That's not a bad thing," Elizabeta replied. "Now come on, I want to talk to people."

"I don't."

"Well... Why don't you go and get something to eat, then? I'll find you later." Elizabeta looked around and pointed to a table near what seemed to be the kitchen. "There's food over there. If you lose track of me, just wait by that table. Okay?"

Gilbert mumbled something under his breath, but eventually he ended up gravitating toward the table. However, even in the presence of food, he didn't seem too thrilled.

Elizabeta observed her surroundings. The interior of the house was relatively dark, and there were people everywhere. It took her a while to recognize anyone. She moved into an area that may have been the living room, where she spotted a few people from her class. She decided against calling out to them, since the music was very loud, and instead just waited around, hoping that someone would notice her.

It didn't take too long. Within a couple of minutes, Antonio saw her and came over. He was with a dark-haired, irritable-looking boy. Elizabeta smiled politely and gave a small wave. Antonio returned the smile. The dark-haired boy scowled.

"Hey, Elizabeta," Antonio said. "Nice to see you." He gestured to his friend. "Have you met Lovino? We have science together."

"I haven't. It's nice to meet you, Lovino," Elizabeta said, holding out her hand.

Lovino ignored her gesture and looked away.

"Sorry about him. He's just a little grumpy," Antonio apologized. Then he asked, "Have you talked to anyone else yet?"

Elizabeta shook her head. "I only got here a little while ago. I haven't had the chance to mingle."

"I'm just going to warn you, there are a few kids here who might cause some trouble. They're from another school in the district. Michelle has friends there, and she only invited one or two, but for some reason a bunch of kids came. I don't even think she knows them all." Lowering his voice slightly, Antonio added, "So just watch out, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Elizabeta looked around. She noticed Michelle nearby. "I'm going to go talk to more people. See you guys later."

"See you."

Elizabeta went over to Michelle and said, "You have a really nice house. It's huge!"

"Isn't it?" Michelle smiled. "We have five bedrooms and three washrooms. Well, three and a half. Two of the bedrooms are typically used as guest rooms. The other three rooms are used by me, my parents, and my cousin. He goes to university in the city, but he lives here. His parents live pretty far away."

"Where are your parents now?" Elizabeta asked.

"In Europe. They travel a lot. I think they're on a business trip at the moment. Whenever they travel, I'm left here. It's not too bad." Michelle sighed and shrugged. "I decided to throw this party to give myself a break from thinking about school. I've been on the honour roll since I started high school. It's kind of stressful. But of course, once this party's over, I'll be hitting the books again."

"I guess you're like me, then. My mom always tells me that I need to stop working so hard, but if I don't work hard, then how will I be able to get into a good university?" Elizabeta laughed softly. "I get what she means, though," she continued. "She's probably right. I get worked up really easily."

Michelle didn't respond for a while. When she did speak again, her voice was light and affectionate. "I'm not one for gossip, but there's something I'm curious about. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, and I absolutely understand if there are reasons why you can't -"

Elizabeta tilted her head. "What is it?"

"Oh, it's just... Like I said, I'm curious, that's all... But I often see you with Gilbert Beilschmidt, and I was just wondering what your guys' relationship is."

"Our...relationship?" Elizabeta was at a loss for words. She mumbled incoherently for some time. _I guess I should just tell her the truth, right? There's no harm in that._ She made a face and said, "We're...friends. Just friends. He's actually staying at my place for now. He's going through some...stuff...and I'm helping him, I guess. That's it."

"Okay." Michelle nodded. "That makes sense. See, I asked because the people in our class like to gossip, and I've heard some nasty rumours about you two, so..."

"There's nothing going on between us, I swear."

Michelle opened her mouth to say something, but jumped slightly and pulled a phone out of her dress pocket. She looked at the screen and said, "I'm sorry, I have to take this." She answered the phone and walked away.

Elizabeta watched her go. She felt a little awkward just standing around, but she didn't know what else to do. She sighed quietly.

"Here, have this," someone said. A glass was put into her hand.

"What is it?" Elizabeta asked.

"Just punch. Go on, drink it."

_Oh, what the hell? It won't kill me._ She drank it in one gulp. It had an odd taste and burned her throat, and her eyes watered. "Holy crap."

"Good, huh?" The glass was taken from her hand, and she was shuffled along, heading deeper into the house. There were very few people she recognized.

Someone slipped their hand into hers, and she came face-to-face with an unfamiliar but very pretty girl. "Hey," the girl said. "You want to keep me company?"

Elizabeta shrugged, thinking it would be fun to hang out with someone new. "Sure, why not?"

The girl smiled and led her through the mass of people. Elizabeta glanced around. She had lost track of Gilbert and couldn't see him anywhere. Hopefully he wasn't causing any trouble.

Before she knew it, Elizabeta had been led into a small room, the only light coming from a high-up window. The girl got Elizabeta to sit on top of a nearby table while she went over to the door and called to someone. Two boys, one quite a bit taller than the other, entered the room. The girl said to them, "She's all yours." She and the taller boy exchanged a few quiet words. Then he pressed something into her hand. With a glance back at Elizabeta, the girl left, closing the door behind her.

Elizabeta was confused. "Who are you?" she asked. It was becoming very difficult for her to see anything clearly.

The boys didn't answer. The taller one came over to her and grabbed her face, smashing his lips into Elizabeta's. He smelled and tasted like smoke and something else indistinguishable. Elizabeta tried to get free, but she couldn't. Eventually she was able to hit the boy in the side of the knee, after which she leaped off the table and bolted for the door.

She didn't get very far. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and she was thrown to the ground. She fell against the cold floor with a thud.

Elizabeta looked up as the boys advanced toward her. There was no way out. She was trapped.

. . . . .

Gilbert wasn't having any fun. The music was far too loud for his liking, and there were too many people. He wanted to leave, but he had no idea where Elizabeta was. For the time being, he was occupying a spot on a small sofa near the back of the house.

A small, pale-faced boy approached the sofa and, ignoring Gilbert, took the seat beside him. Gilbert was more than a little annoyed, but decided against saying anything.

Eventually the boy sighed and turned to Gilbert. "This whole thing is kind of dumb, isn't it?" he said.

_Is this kid...talking to me?_ Gilbert shrugged and replied, "I guess. It's pretty lame. Just a bunch of losers with nothing better to do on a Saturday night."

"We must be losers, too," the boy said. "We're here."

"Hmm."

"I'm Emil, by the way." He pointed into the crowd. "My brother Lukas dragged me here. He said that if he had to come, I had to come. I didn't really get his logic. He's a third-year."

"Yeah, I know him," Gilbert said. "He's in my class."

Emil raised his brow. "You're a third-year?"

Gilbert nodded. He typically didn't like when people he didn't know - or anyone, for that matter - started talking to him, but Emil didn't seem all that bad.

"I'm a first-year. Sure, it's only been a couple months, but I don't like high school," Emil said. "It's no fun. I just think it's stupid."

"I wish I could tell you different, but it doesn't get any better. Trust me, I know."

"Oh." Emil looked down. "Well, thanks for being optimistic," he muttered.

_I like this kid. He's a lot like, well, me._ Gilbert grinned to himself. For the first time in quite a while, he actually felt comfortable around someone new.

"You know, I think I might get going," Emil said, standing up. "Are you staying here?"

"Yeah, I'm waiting for someone."

"Cool. Well, I'll see you later, I guess." Emil gave a small wave and left.

Gilbert sank back into the sofa. He was back to being bored. But his mood was slightly better. He had a new friend.

. . . . .

Elizabeta screamed. The shorter boy grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head. The taller boy was settled between her legs, caressing her thigh. He slowly began to lift her skirt.

Elizabeta thrashed about as best she could and shouted, "Help me!" in the hope that someone outside would hear her. But the music was playing so loud that there wasn't much of a chance anyone would notice.

The taller boy stood up and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He began to take pictures of her. Elizabeta squinted from the flash and turned away. The taller boy knelt down and said to the shorter one, "Turn her head to face the camera. And lift up her shirt a bit."

"Yep." Though it was difficult due to Elizabeta's struggle, the boy was able to follow the orders. The other took more pictures.

Elizabeta continued to thrash and cry out. She was determined to get free. However, the boys were determined to keep her there. The taller one attempted to cover her mouth, but she bit his finger. He responded by slapping her, which elicited a small whimper from her. Then he kissed her.

Elizabeta suddenly felt her body grow heavy and weak. She heard a slight buzzing in her ears, and she groaned softly. _What was in that drink I had? I feel sick._ She could barely put up a fight anymore. A few tears escaped her eyes. This was really going to happen. There was nothing she could do. Her eyes slowly closed and she dropped her head.

The taller boy got up, and Elizabeta could hear him undoing his belt. The shorter boy released her arms. She opened her eyes. There was a chance to escape now - that is, if she was able to stand. She decided to take a risk. Jumping to her feet, she took less than a second to regain her balance and elbowed the shorter boy in the chest. Then she pushed past the taller one and flung the door open, throwing herself back into the crowd.

"Help me!" she croaked. Her throat was dry and sore. "Help!" But no one seemed to hear.

Her legs grew weak and she collapsed to the floor. She had no strength to stand. Her adrenaline had worn off.

Someone grabbed her arm. She yelled and tried to pull away, but the voice speaking to her over the booming music was familiar. "Come on, it's okay. I'll help you up." She looked up and saw Gilbert. He pulled her to her feet, steadying her when she stumbled, and guided her outside.

They had barely stepped out of the house when Elizabeta was overcome with nausea and threw up. She coughed a few times and threw up again. She didn't notice right away, but Gilbert was holding back her hair. She thanked him in her mind.

With a groan, Elizabeta plopped down on the porch and put her head in her hands. She heard Gilbert sit beside her. Both were quiet. Inside the house, the party continued to rage.

Elizabeta sighed weakly and leaned against Gilbert. She felt him gently pat her head. Before she knew it, tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she trembled. "Can... Can we go home now?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah. Let's go."

_**A/N:**_** I told you, shit happens.** **¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Sorry**

**Shout-out to WitchhPrincess for suggesting (some time ago) that I give Iceland a cameo appearance**

**I had so many things to say, but I forget what they were... Yeah**


	29. Keep Holding On (Avril Lavigne)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**This is a very quick update. Mostly because when I finished writing the last chapter, I immediately started on this one. This one also went through lots of revisions**

**Warning for mentions of sexual assault, self-harm, and suicide**

The walk home was relatively silent. Elizabeta was too shaky to walk by herself, so she had to hold onto Gilbert. He didn't mind. What mattered most was that she was okay. He had even draped his jacket over her shoulders. Sure, he was cold, but so what? At least Elizabeta wasn't.

When they finally got home, Elizabeta ran straight upstairs. Gilbert slowly followed her. He didn't know what her deal was, but he was worried about her. _What happened to her? She seems really freaked out._

The door to Elizabeta's room was open slightly. Gilbert knocked quietly, then pushed it all the way open.

Elizabeta was on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. She looked over when the door was pushed open. Her eyes were filled with tears. A bruise was starting to form on her left cheek.

"Are you okay?" Gilbert asked.

"N-no. I'm not." Elizabeta's voice was shaky. "Y-you can come in, if you want."

"Do you want me to?"

Elizabeta shrugged and looked down. She bit her bottom lip.

Gilbert entered the room and went over to the bed. He didn't sit down. Instead he said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I... I don't know. I-I want to, but..." Elizabeta trembled. "I'm too scared. It sounds dumb, I know. You can sit down."

"It's not dumb. If you want to talk, go ahead. If you don't want to, fine. I don't mind either way." Gilbert slowly sat down. "Whatever makes you comfortable."

Elizabeta reached out and took his hand. She said softly, "There were these two guys I didn't know. They...did things to me. Touched me and took pictures. I was so afraid. Luckily I was able to escape before they could do anything else, but..."

Gilbert didn't know what to say. He had no clue how to comfort her. He was furious that something like that could happen to her. It wasn't fair. She'd never done anything to anyone.

"Maybe it was my fault," Elizabeta went on. "Maybe there was something I did -"

"I don't think you did anything wrong. It wasn't your fault." Gilbert was aware that he sounded a bit harsh, but he couldn't help it. He had failed his job. He hadn't kept her safe. _I really can't do anything right._

Elizabeta flinched slightly and lowered her gaze. "You know, I think I want to be alone," she whispered. "Would you mind leaving?"

Gilbert shook his head and stood up. "I'll go." He would have said more, but it was apparent that Elizabeta didn't want him there. He left the room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door shut, he could hear Elizabeta crying. The sound was reserved and soft, as though she was scared of being too loud. Gilbert clenched his fist. Elizabeta didn't deserve to feel that way.

_What am I supposed to do for her now? Is there even anything I _can _do? I feel so useless._ Standing in the hallway, he looked around. The only thing he could think of wasn't really beneficial to anyone - but what else could he do? It helped him cope with stress. He headed for the bathroom.

The sharp blade felt small and delicate in his fingers. Yes, it was small, but it could inflict a lot of damage. Without thinking, he pressed the blade into his wrist. Blood appeared almost immediately. It flowed down his arm, slowly but surely. The cut was deep and would certainly leave a noticeable scar. _Shit. Fucking shit._ It was nothing that wearing a long-sleeved shirt wouldn't hide, but still. Grabbing a tissue, Gilbert sat on the floor and attempted to stop the bleeding. It wasn't easy, but eventually the blood flow eased up a bit. Then the pain began to set in.

Gilbert sighed quietly. He knew he was losing control, but he didn't know what he could do about it. How much longer could he keep up this act of normalcy? It was only a matter of time before he completely broke down.

His thoughts were running wild. He was exhausted. His fingers tightened around the blade, and he held it to his neck. It wouldn't take too long. As long as the cut was deep enough, it would take less than a minute to bleed out. Then everything would be over.

"No. No!" He threw the blade to the floor and dug his fingers into his hair. _Stop it. I can't die yet. Elizabeta needs me. I have to stay around just a little while longer._

He tried to stand, but sank back to the ground. He felt light-headed. What was he supposed to do now?

. . . . .

Elizabeta was having trouble falling asleep. Every time she closed her eyes, the attack replayed in her mind. She could smell the sweat. She could feel the rough hands on her skin. The heavy breathing rang loudly in her ears. She was too afraid to sleep.

She sat up and hugged her blanket close. She felt dirty. _Why did that have to happen to me? What did I do? Why me?_ If she'd been feeling better, she would have gone to talk to her mother. But she felt like crap.

Her cheek was sore. She would definitely get a bruise. She could try to hide it with cover-up, but there was still a chance that people would notice. Maybe she could stay home until it fully healed.

Elizabeta looked down at her knees. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream and yell in anger and frustration. She wanted to turn back time.

_I think I might have a shower. It might help me sleep._ She pushed her blanket aside and slowly stood up. Her legs were still shaky. When she went out into the hall, she noticed that the bathroom door was closed. She knocked and called out, "Hello?" But there was no response. She knocked again. "I'm coming in." Then she opened the door.

Gilbert was sitting on the floor, a small blade at his feet. His wrist was bleeding. He didn't look up when the door opened.

"Oh..." Elizabeta slowly went down on her knees. She could feel herself shaking. She wanted to say something, but no words came out. Overcome with shock, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

"I'm sorry," she heard Gilbert whisper. "I'm really sorry. I panicked. I didn't know what else to do."

"It's...okay. You don't have to apologize." Elizabeta reached out her hand. "Here, let me clean your wrist. It'll be like before. You remember that time at school, don't you?"

"It's not just my wrist."

Elizabeta frowned slightly. "What?" she asked. "What do you mean?"

"I'll show you," Gilbert said as he stood up. He lifted his shirt to reveal his stomach.

Elizabeta gasped and covered her mouth. "Why?" she said softly. She was horrified to see the dozens of cuts across Gilbert's stomach. There were some that seemed to be at least a few days old, while others were very fresh. She shuddered and looked away.

"I really am sorry. I can't help it." Gilbert pulled his shirt back down and crossed his arms. "It's like I just have this compulsion to do it. I've tried to stop, but I can't."

"You need help," Elizabeta said. "We can get you help. I... I want you to get better."

Gilbert shook his head. "There's nothing anyone can do. I know you're just trying to be helpful, but... I don't think I can be helped."

"Don't talk like that, please." Elizabeta got to her feet. "Listen to me, okay? You will get better. I'm sure of it. It may take a long time, but I know it'll happen. Until then, I want you to talk to me when you're feeling like this."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You're going through your own stuff right now. I don't want to stress you out even more."

Elizabeta pondered this for a short time. Then she said, "Maybe we can help each other. Would you be okay with that?"

There was a pause. Then Gilbert nodded slowly.

"Good. Now... I was going to have a shower..."

"Oh. Okay." Gilbert turned to leave. "See you in a bit."

Once he left, Elizabeta closed the door and sighed. She knew that the next few days - weeks, even - would be difficult for both of them, but she had the feeling they would get through it. _And maybe we'll end up even stronger. Yeah, just keep thinking like that. We'll get through this._

**_A/N:_ Yay for quick update? (I should really be doing my schoolwork but I don't want to)**


	30. Iris (Goo Goo Dolls)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**So I'll be honest and say that I never expected this story to get this far. I credit my motivation to you guys! :D (So maybe you'll forgive me for taking a while to update)**

"You talk in your sleep."

"What?"

Gilbert nodded, not looking up from his notebook. "I've been aware of it for a while. I'm only bringing it up now because you were particularly loud last night."

"I was?" Elizabeta paused in her cleaning. "I'm sorry."

"It's no big deal. You were crying and shouting a bit, though," Gilbert said. "So I might've gotten a little worried about you."

"Yeah, I... I think I had a few nightmares. So -" Elizabeta frowned. "Wait, did you say you were worried about me?"

"Nope. Never said that."

The corners of Elizabeta's mouth turned up slightly. "I think you did."

"Fine, okay, yes, I was worried about you. Happy?" Gilbert looked up for the briefest of moments. "It's not a bad thing, is it?"

"Of course not. It's sweet," Elizabeta said. She decided to abandon her cleaning for the time being and leaned against her desk.

"I am _not_ sweet," Gilbert scoffed. "Definitely not." He shook his head and went back to writing.

Elizabeta tilted her head. "And why do you say that?" she asked.

"I hate everything. I'm eternally in a bad mood. I don't know how to read people. I'm a lot of things, but sweet isn't one of them."

"I disagree," Elizabeta said softly. She looked up at the ceiling. "You're sensitive and kind. A bit shy and awkward, yes, but that's not really a negative. And I don't think you hate everything like you say you do. You close yourself off to a lot of things. So instead of experiencing life, you block it out. Those are just my thoughts on the matter."

"See, that's where you're different from everyone else. You actually take the time to think and - oh, crap, I broke my pencil - you don't write me off as a lost cause." With a sigh of frustration, Gilbert tossed the broken pencil aside. He looked at Elizabeta and said, "You keep trying. I mean, come on, I've put you through hell. Other people would've already given up. Most wouldn't have even tried in the first place. But you're persistent. It's a little weird because I'm not used to it, but I don't mind too much."

Elizabeta felt her eyes brim with tears. She wasn't entirely sure why. Her chest and throat began to grow tight. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. _Don't cry. Not now. Do not cry._ But before she knew it, she was on the ground, tears running down her face, her body shaking.

It seemed like a good minute or two before Gilbert asked, "Are you okay?" Based on the tone of his voice, he seemed to have no idea what to do.

Elizabeta weakly shook her head. When she spoke, her voice was stiff and hoarse. "I-it's stupid... I know it is... But I-I can't help it..." She slowly looked up. "I can't stop thinking about what happened last night. I'm still so afraid. I-I can't even close my eyes without seeing _them_... It's so clear in my mind. I can't make it go away. I don't know what to do. I think I'm too scared to even leave the house. I'm...worried they'll find me somehow."

"It's not stupid," Gilbert said matter-of-factly. "I don't think it is, anyway. It makes sense. It's not that much of a surprise that you'd be freaked out." He sighed. "I sound mean, don't I? Look, all I'm saying is that it's entirely understandable for you to be feeling the way you are. No one will blame you for being upset. You've talked to your mom about it, yeah?"

"Yeah... She said it's okay for me to stay home from school until I'm feeling better. But I don't know when that'll be."

"I'm sure you'll be fine. You just need to take a few days to get back to normal." Leaving his notebook on the bed, Gilbert got up and came over to Elizabeta, sitting down on the floor in front of her. "I know I'm not the most stable person around, but you can depend on me if you want to. I'm here for you."

Elizabeta wiped her tears away with her arm and gave a tired smile. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thanks so much."

Gilbert shrugged and made a small noise. "You know, I think I might go get something to eat," he said, standing up. "You want anything?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay." With another shrug, Gilbert left the room. Elizabeta heard his footsteps descend the stairs.

She remained seated on the floor for some time, tapping her fingers against her legs. Then her eyes fell on her unmade bed. With a heavy sigh, she stood up and went over to her bed, tugging at the blanket. As she did so, Gilbert's notebook fell to the floor. Elizabeta went to pick it up, but she stopped.

The notebook lay open on the floor. The pages were filled with practically illegible sentences. Elizabeta was curious and crouched down. Her eyes widened slightly as she read.

_'How can I say how I feel? I don't know how to do it. Everything I say always gets taken the wrong way. I guess I'm just an idiot. Elizabeta sees me only as a friend. That makes sense. She deserves someone better than me. But all I want to do is tell her how I really feel. She's special to me. She's perfect. I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone. But she'll never know. I'm just too scared to tell her.'_

Elizabeta quickly shut the notebook and picked it up. _He...has feelings for me? Really? He does?_ She felt the smallest of smiles play on her lips. To her, this was great news. She no longer had to fear that he wouldn't reciprocate.

Of course, Gilbert couldn't know that she'd seen that page. So Elizabeta casually set the notebook on her nightstand. Then she went back to making her bed.

_**A/N:**_** Sorry for not updating for like a week. I've been really busy with school and life.**

**Also, I've been working on another fic, so please look out for that!**


	31. The Reason (Hoobastank)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Sorry for taking a while to update!**

"You know, if you don't hurry up, you're going to be late for school," Elizabeta called. She was seated on her bed with her back against the wall, a cup of tea in her hands. It was ten past eight.

"I've kind of been having second thoughts about it," Gilbert called back from downstairs. There was the sound of something falling over. "I don't really want to go anymore."

Elizabeta sighed and looked down at her tea. Though she may have seemed fine physically, her mind was in turmoil. She was fearful of being around large numbers of people. There was the chance that something bad could happen. The events of _that night_ kept playing over and over again in her head. How many people had been at that party? Had any of them heard her cries for help? And if they had, why didn't they come to save her?

"Hey, you okay? You're awfully quiet." Less than a minute later, Gilbert appeared in the doorway. He was more or less dressed for school, save for shoes, but he didn't seem too pleased about it.

"I'm fine. Actually...I'm not." Elizabeta frowned and looked up. Her hands tightened around her cup. "I'm scared. I feel sick. I can't go a minute without...remembering what happened. There's nothing I can do about it. It's terrible."

Crossing his arms, Gilbert leaned against the doorframe. "Sorry to ask you this, but..." He trailed off.

"What? You know you can ask me anything."

"Do you remember what those guys looked like?" Gilbert asked. His gaze dropped as he spoke.

Elizabeta stiffened. She bit her lip and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I remember," she said. "One was tall, with dark hair. The other was shorter. It was dark in that room. I really couldn't see much. But they both smelled like smoke."

"Hmm." Gilbert nodded. "Okay, good to know," he said in a quiet voice.

"What's good to know?" Elizabeta made a move to get up. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing, nothing." With a weak laugh, Gilbert straightened up. "Look, I have to get to school, right? Yes, that's where I'm going. See you later." He turned and ran down the stairs.

Elizabeta remained still for a few moments. Then she set her cup on her nightstand and lay down under her blanket. She suddenly felt chilly. Her blanket was warm and safe. No one could hurt her here.

Something warm oozed down her cheek, and she realized it was a tear. She wasn't surprised. Her emotions were completely out of whack. Her body felt light, but her head was heavy and fuzzy. _I just wish none of this had happened._

She eventually drifted off to sleep, but it wasn't very restful.

. . . . .

Gilbert was on a mission. Granted, it wasn't one that anyone would approve of, but he didn't care. Very rarely did he care about the opinions of others.

He was determined to find the bastards who assaulted Elizabeta.

All he knew about them was from Elizabeta's description, but that was enough for him to know that they didn't go to this school. Sure, the kids here were annoying and gossipy, but they weren't inclined to do anything too bad. There were two other schools nearby. Both were rumoured to have pretty nasty students. But they were at opposite ends of town. The only way he could know for certain which school it was would be to ask the one who had organized the party in the first place.

Gilbert ran up the stairs to the second floor. He was late, and first period had just ended. The halls were teeming with students, some on their phones, others talking with their friends. They ignored him, and he ignored them. As he neared the end of the hall, he spotted Michelle Kent with her group. Without thinking, Gilbert shouted out, "Hey!" Everyone in the hall, including Michelle, looked in his direction. He immediately regretted drawing so much attention to himself, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now.

Michelle left her friends and approached Gilbert. She looked around and asked, "Where's Elizabeta?"

"She's not here. Listen -"

"Is she all right? See, I heard about what happened at my party, and I'm so sorry. I had no idea, honest." Michelle had an earnest look on her face. "If I'd known..."

Gilbert frowned. "How did you know about that?"

"A friend of mine from another school sent me some pictures this morning," Michelle explained. She held up her phone. "I asked her where she'd got them, and she said someone she knew sent them to her. I... I recognized Elizabeta. I deleted the pictures, of course. And I feel so awful. I just wish I'd known at the time."

"What school?"

"I'm so stupid. I should have kept an eye on everyone..."

"What school?"

"Oh." Michelle blinked twice. "It's the school right at the edge of town. You know the one, don't you? It has sort of a bad reputation."

"Yeah, I know." Gilbert started to turn to leave.

"Hey, um... If you don't mind, could you please tell Elizabeta that I'm sorry?" Michelle asked. "I just feel so bad for not knowing what was going on at my own party. I don't want her to hate me."

Gilbert sighed and shrugged. "Sure, whatever."

Michelle smiled in relief. "Thank you," she said. "I have to get to class now. Uh, bye." She went back to her friends and exchanged a few words with them, then moved toward the staircase.

For a few minutes, Gilbert stood in the hallway, quietly observing the traffic of the school. He may have gotten a couple of odd looks, but he didn't notice or care. He'd be leaving soon, anyway.

The school right at the edge of town. It was a good hour's walk away. He'd have to get started on his way.

. . . . .

Elizabeta yawned as she flipped through the television channels. She had spent most of the day in bed and had only recently come downstairs. She was contemplating getting something to eat, but she wasn't really sure if she was hungry or not. The rain fell steadily.

There was a knock on the door.

Setting the remote down on the coffee table, Elizabeta got up from the couch. She was halfway out of the living room when she heard her mother open the door and say, "Yes, hello?"

"Is this kid yours?" an unfamiliar male voice asked. Intrigued, Elizabeta stuck her head out of the living room.

A police officer was standing on the porch. He was gesturing to someone beside him, but the door was blocking whoever it was.

"Yes," Ms. Héderváry said slowly. "What's going on?"

"I found him at the school across town. He was fighting with some of the kids there," the officer explained. "Luckily, I was able to break it up before it got too serious. I would've taken him to the station, but come on, he's just a kid."

"Thank you so much for bringing him home."

"No problem. Just make sure he stays out of trouble." With a nod, the officer turned and left. Once he was gone, Elizabeta approached the front door. Ms. Héderváry looked over her shoulder and, with a slight shrug, stepped aside.

Gilbert was standing on the front porch. His clothes and hair were wet. There were a few cuts and bruises on his face, but he wore a small, satisfied smile.

Elizabeta was stunned. "What happened to you?" she asked, moving closer.

"Nothing. I'm fine," Gilbert said as he stepped into the house. Ms. Héderváry closed the door behind him.

"What about your face? It looks like you were beat up!" Elizabeta suddenly realized something. "Oh, my God, who were you fighting?"

"I'll let you kids talk," Ms. Héderváry said. She went into the kitchen.

Elizabeta moved to the stairs. "Come on, let's talk in my room." She dashed up the stairs. Gilbert followed her.

Once they were in her room, Elizabeta sat on her bed and asked, "What were you doing? Why did that officer bring you home?"

Gilbert stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "I'll tell you, but I don't want you to get mad at me."

"Go on."

"Okay, so I went to school this morning, right? I got there late, and I didn't end up going to class." With a quiet sigh, Gilbert sat down beside Elizabeta. "I found Michelle and talked to her a bit. Thanks to her, I was able to find out the school that those...guys go to. So I went over there. And I guess maybe I got into a fight."

Elizabeta shook her head. "Why did you do that? Violence is never the answer," she said softly.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't even know if they were the right ones at first. But when I asked them a few questions, I knew. I knew it was them." Gilbert looked away. "I'm sorry. But I was so angry because of what they did to you that I couldn't help myself."

"Really?" Elizabeta tilted her head.

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah. It's because I l-" He abruptly stopped talking.

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing. It's stupid, really," Gilbert said, standing up. "Are you hungry? I'm going to get something to eat."

"Yeah. Just bring me an apple or something," Elizabeta replied.

"Gotcha. Be right back." Gilbert left the room and went down the stairs.

Elizabeta watched him go. She breathed a heavy sigh and ran her fingers through her hair. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to say, but he was just way too shy to actually do it.

"I like you, too," she whispered.

_**A/N:**_** Again, apologies for making you guys wait for an update. I've just been going through some difficult stuff lately, so... *shrug***


	32. Hear Me (Imagine Dragons)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Yay for kinda quick update?**

"Interesting facts about myself..." Elizabeta tapped her pencil against her desk. It was Thursday evening, and she was seated in her swivel chair at her desk. A university application paper lay in front of her. Yes, she was only sixteen, and yes, she still had another year and a half left of high school, but she was determined to make her entrance essay and application as perfect as she could. She did not want to settle for second-best. Although she was generally easy-going, she was also stubborn and fiercely competitive. "I can cook... No, lots of people can do that," she muttered. "I can sing...in Hungarian. That just sounds dumb."

"You can sing in Hungarian?"

Elizabeta glanced over her shoulder. She saw Gilbert sitting up on the bed, a curious expression on his face. "Weren't you having a nap?" she asked.

"I woke up. So...can you really sing in Hungarian?"

"Yeah. Mostly just church stuff, though," Elizabeta said. "My mom and I used to go to a Hungarian church when I was young. I was in the choir for a time. I can also speak a little bit of Hungarian, but I'm pretty rusty."

Gilbert pointed at the pencil in her hand. "What are you working on?" he asked. "Tomorrow's a day off. Why don't you relax?"

"I have to do this. It's important." Elizabeta turned back to her desk. She decided to move on to the next question, which was about her planned major. She began to write "history", then fixed it so that it said "Eastern European history". Then she had to decide whether she wanted a minor or a double major.

She kept writing until she felt warm breathing on her neck, and in a moment of panic, she pushed her chair backward. Jumping to her feet, she spun around just in time to see Gilbert narrowly avoid getting hit by the chair. He gave it an indignant look.

Elizabeta took a minute to compose herself. She'd been so engrossed in her paper that she hadn't heard him get up from the bed. Or maybe he was just really quiet. She couldn't be sure.

Gilbert was still looking at the chair. "You almost ran me over with that thing," he said.

"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. You just scared me," Elizabeta replied. "Why were you right behind me like that?"

"I wanted to see what you were doing."

"Did you ever think it might be private?"

"It's your university application, isn't it?" Gilbert looked down. "Your mom told me about it. I guess it means you'll be leaving me alone, huh?"

Elizabeta shook her head. "I still have a long way to go," she said. "I'm not finished high school yet. I have a year and a half left. And even so, the university I want to go to isn't too far away. The drive's under two hours, I think."

"I can't drive."

"My mom could always drive you to visit me. Or you could take the bus."

"But what if it's an emergency and I need to talk to you, like, right away? Then what?"

Elizabeta could tell that he was getting worked up. Covering her paper with a book, she calmly said, "Let's take a minute to relax, okay? I'm not leaving right this second. I'm still here. Okay?"

Gilbert slowly nodded, although he didn't seem entirely convinced of what she was saying. He moved over to the bed and sat down. "I'm sorry. This is all just stupid, isn't it, the way I'm acting. I should just suck it up and learn to face reality." He let out an annoyed sigh. "What the hell am I doing? I'm acting like a little kid."

"I don't think you are," Elizabeta said. "And if you are, so what? There's no one here to judge you."

"I just... I don't know. I never know how to properly react to things. Either I act like I don't care, or I get angry." Gilbert glanced up at Elizabeta. "It's hard, you know? Like, I feel things, but I don't know what to do about it. Sometimes I just scream, but I've found all that does is give me a sore throat. And I also get told to shut up, so there's that. It's really hard to keep everything bottled up."

Elizabeta sat down in her chair, moving it closer to the bed. "It's not good to suppress your emotions. It's healthy to let them out."

"Yeah, I've heard that. But it's sort of tricky when you've been raised learning that showing emotions is a bad thing, something you can get in trouble for doing. For once, I'd just really like to be able to say what I feel."

"Then why don't you?" Elizabeta cocked her head to one side. "You know I won't mind what you say."

"No, I... It's embarrassing," Gilbert muttered. He made a face and shook his head. "Look, I want to tell you, but I don't know if I can."

"Okay. I get it." Elizabeta dropped her gaze and smiled slightly. "You know, there's something I've been meaning to tell you, but I don't know exactly how to word it."

"Really?"

With a nod, Elizabeta looked up. "I'm going to try anyway, so just let me talk, okay? It might sound a little awkward, but that doesn't matter. Here goes." She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her hair. "I feel like I can tell you pretty much anything. Maybe that's just me. I don't know. I think what I mean to say is that I trust you. And when I trust someone, I feel safe around them. That's why, even after all that's happened recently, I still want you here. I'm scared of leaving the house by myself or being around a lot of people, but I'm not scared of being around you. I'm happy and safe with you. But there's more to it than that. God, I just wish I could actually come out and say it..."

"It's okay."

"What?"

"It's okay. I know what you were going to say." Gilbert leaned back on his hands. "Maybe one day we'll both have the courage to say what we really mean," he added with a small grin.

"Yeah... Maybe." As Elizabeta turned back to her desk, a thought crossed her mind: _Does he really know what I was going to say? And if so... What does he think about it?_

_**A/N:**_** I was up so late last night trying to finish this chapter. I've been running on very little sleep lately.**

**Also, I have a new story (Iris) so check that out if you have time! Thanks for reading!**


	33. Fireflies (Owl City)

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**Kind of a short chapter, but whatevs.**

How long had he been awake now? Had he even slept at all? The answer was most likely no. It was very late - or very early, depending on one's point of view. The house was still. Even the world outside was quiet. No wind, no rain. Unusual, considering the recent weather. Everything seemed to be at peace.

Everything, that is, except for Gilbert.

He wasn't even tired. He was, however, annoyed at his inability to fall asleep. He didn't mind being awake, but he knew how exhausted he'd be in the morning. Once again, he was caught in the middle of this frustrating predicament.

He had spent a large part of the night talking to himself. It made him feel less lonely. He didn't know how normal it was, but he didn't care. Most of what he did would be considered abnormal by the general populace.

"Night... It's night. Night is dark. But in the morning, the sun comes up and everything's bright... Hey, there's a song in there somewhere." Jumping to his feet, Gilbert began to look around the room for his notebook. He didn't remember where he'd put it. He stumbled around in the dark for a short time before bumping into Elizabeta's desk. _Isn't there a lamp on here?_ He felt around and flipped on the light. Almost immediately, the desk and the area surrounding it were bathed in a soft glow. And there, sitting on the centre of the desk, was his notebook. Had he left it there? Maybe Elizabeta had been the one to move it.

Gilbert grabbed a pencil and, flipping to a blank page, began to write. He realized that he would need a new notebook soon. He hadn't had this one for too long, but he wrote so much that most of the pages were full.

It would be hard to explain to someone what filled the pages of his notebook. He constantly had ideas for new songs, so he always made sure to jot those down. Sometimes he drew little pictures. The rest of the time, his notebook functioned as a sort of journal in which he wrote about all the things he wasn't sure how to say out loud. Yes, many pages were filled with these kinds of ramblings. It was an outlet for him, and a non-destructive one at that.

He stopped writing after he managed to come up with a chorus and two verses. That was enough to count as a full song for now. As he read it over, he realized that this one, just like the others, was in a sense dedicated to Elizabeta. Would she ever know how he felt about her? She was smart, and he wasn't always good at being subtle, so she had probably figured it out by now.

There was a soft noise, and he turned around.

Elizabeta was sitting up in her bed, shielding her eyes from the light. "What's going on?" she mumbled.

"Sorry. I was doing something," Gilbert said, closing his notebook. "Did I wake you?"

"No. I was having a dream." Elizabeta yawned. "You were in it."

"Really?"

With a tired nod, Elizabeta looked around. "What time is it?"

"Late. Go back to sleep."

At first, it didn't seem like Elizabeta had heard him. Then she shrugged, yawned again, and lay back down. She muttered something unintelligible, her voice fading as she fell back asleep.

Gilbert stayed as still as possible for several minutes, not wanting to risk waking her by accident. Once he was certain that she was asleep, he looked at the pencil in his hand and turned back to his notebook.

He had yet another idea for a song.

. . . . .

Elizabeta was slightly disoriented when she woke up. Since it was a day off, she hadn't been jarred awake by her alarm. Still, for some reason or another, she felt a bit loopy. With a quiet sigh, she pulled her covers over her head. She was reminded of her love of hiding under blankets when she was young. She still enjoyed doing it, even though it seemed a little childish.

_What would happen if I decided to sleep all day? It wouldn't be all that bad, right? Maybe I could get back into the dream I was just having..._ As her thoughts wandered, she was suddenly reminded of a dream she'd had earlier that night.

_Oh, boy... That dream..._ She felt her cheeks grow hot, and she shook her head. _You're a good girl. You're not supposed to have dreams like that. Please forgive me, God. It was an accident._

This was the kind of thing she could talk to her friends about. That is, if she had friends. She hadn't been to school in almost a week, but even so, she wasn't sure how many of her classmates she could consider "friends". She felt a longing for her old school and her old friends.

_So much has changed recently. And it's all happened so quickly. I can barely keep track of it all. A lot of it has been hard, but the rest... The rest has been nice. Everything happens for a reason, right? Yeah, of course it does. If you can make it through the difficult stuff, you end up becoming a better person. I just have to keep telling myself that. Everything will turn out all right._

Her mind went back to _that dream_. As she reflected on it again, she decided it wasn't as bad as she'd originally thought. _If I look at it objectively, is it really that much of a surprise that my subconscious would decide to throw that at me? It's a bit embarrassing, sure, but it's not real. It's just in my head._

Maybe one day, things would be different and she wouldn't have to just dream. But that day was probably far off in the future.

At some point, without her even realizing it, she ended up falling asleep again.

_**A/N:**_** I can't believe I'm writing another song for this thing. Who knows, it may or may not show up in the future.**


End file.
